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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

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http://www.archive.org/details/englishliterarymOOhuntrich 


ENGLISH  LITERARY  MISCELLANY 


ENGLISH  LITERARY  MISCELLANY 


BY 
THEODORE  W.  HUNT 

Professor  of  English  in  Princeton  University 
Author  of  "  English  Prose  and  Prose  Writers  " 
"  Literature :  Its  Principles  and  Problems,"  etc. 


OBERLIN,  OHIO 
BIBLIOTHECA  SACRA  COMPANY 

191  4 


Copyright  1914  by 
BIBLIOTHECA  SACRA  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 
Published,  January,  1914 


The  News  Printing  Company 
OterUn,  Ohio.  U.  S.  A. 


TO 
MY  COLLEAGUES 

IN  THE  ENGLISH  DEPARTMENT  OF 
PRINCETON  UNIVERSITY 


331039 


PREFACE 

The  papers  herein  presented  are  discussions 
within  the  definite  province  of  EngHsh  Letters. 
They  are  developed  along  historical  and  critical 
lines,  and  they  seek  to  relate  the  study  of  our 
vernacular  literature  with  the  manifest  progress 
of  English  thought  and  life.  As  will  be  seen, 
some  of  the  topics  treated  are  of  a  general,  com- 
prehensive nature  and  range,  but  are  sufficiently 
illustrated  by  concrete  example  to  make  them  in- 
telligible and  practically  helpful  to  the  literary 
student,  while  others  are  more  specific.  The  ar- 
ticles  have  all  appeared  in  the  Bibliotheca  Sacra. 

Princeton  University 
January,  1914 


SUMMARY  OF  CONTENTS 


PART  FIRST:  GENERAL  DISCUSSIONS 

I. -THE  INDEBTEDNESS  OF  LATER  ENGUSH  UTERATURE 
TO  EARLIER 

Limits  of  the  Earlier  Literature 3 

A  priori,  This  Dependence  Exists 4 

More  and  more  Conceded 6 

Forms  of  Indebtedness 7 

Literary  Vigor 7 

Naturalness 10 

Sobriety 13 

Modern  Literary  Tendencies — Influences 17 

Relation    of    Literature    and    Language    in    the 

Earlier    Eras 18 

Attitude    of    Post-Elizabethan    Authors    to    this 

Earlier  Literature 21 

Relativity  in  Literature 24 


n -THE  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH  PROSE 

Relative  Origin  of  Prose  and  Verse 25 

Middle  and   Old   English   Prose 26 

Theories  of  Earle,  Arnold,  and  Harrison 26 

Sixteenth-century  Prose 32 

Seventeenth-century  Prose 35 

The  Prose  of  the  Commonwealth  and  of  the  Res- 
toration— Milton    and    Dryden 36 

Eighteenth-century  Prose 39 

A  Specifically  Prose  Era        40 

Emphasis   of   the   Vernacular   over   the   Classical 

and  Continental 41 

Origin  of  Journalistic  English  and  the  Novel     .  42 


X  Summary  of  Contents 

Nineteenth-century    Prose   marks    the   Culmination     .  45 

List  of  Authors 46 

1 1  l.-THE  HISTORY  OF  ENGUSH  LYRIC  VERSE 

Origin  in  Human  Experience 49 

Characteristics         49 

Subjective         49 

Marks  the  Union  of  Subjective  and  Objective     .  50 

Comprehensive 50 

Structure 51 

Forms 51 

Sacred 51 

Secular — Pastoral,  Elegiac,  Humorous,  National, 
Amatory,    Descriptive,    Convivial,    Ballads    and 

Odes 52 

Demonstrative  and  Reflective  Lyrics      ....  53 

History  of  English   Lyric 54 

Old  and  Middle  English  Lyric 54 

Lyrical  Revival  under  Henry  the  Eighth     ...  57 

Elizabethan    Lyrics — Shakespeare      .....  58 

Stuart    and    Augustan    Eras, — Milton     ....  59 

Later   Georgian   Era,    Dawn   of  Naturalism     .      .  fj2 

Opposing    Factors 64 

The  Victorian  Era 66 

Contemporary  Lyric 69 

IV.-EUZABETHAN  DRAMATIC  DEVELOPMENT 

The  Golden  Age  Dramatic 71 

Taine's   Three   Conditions — Race,    Epoch,    Place     .     .  71 

A    Fourth     Condition,     Personality 75 

Reasons  for  this  Development 76 

The  Revival  of  Classical  Learning     .....  76 

Awakening  of  the  National  Mind 78 

Emphasis    of    Life 79 

Comprehensiveness  of  the  Era 80 

Influence  of  Drama  on  the  Other  Forms     ....  80 

On    the    Prose— Shakespeare,    etc 80 

The  Drama  and  the  Epic — Spenser,  etc.     ...  82 

The   Drama   and   the   Lyric     .......  82 


Summary  of  Contents  xi 


Minor  Dramatists  of  the  Era 83 

Exponents   of   tlieir   Age 85 

Skilled   in   Dramatic   Art 86 

A  Cooperative  Body  of  Authors 87 

Shakespeare's  Indebtedness  to  Other  Authors     ...  88 

A  Co-worker  in  the  Drama 93 


V.-ENGLISH  DRAMATIC  VERSE  AFTER  SHAKESPEARE 

A  Reproduction  of  an  Earlier  Product 96 

An  Era  of  Decline  in  Drama 96 

Its   Causes 96 

The  Early  Stuart  and  the  Puritan  Period     ....  98 

Reasons   for  Decadence 98 

Influence  of  the   Better  Elements 99 

The    Puritan   Protest 100 

The  Later  Stuart  Drama 101 

An    Era    of   Reaction 101 

Characteristics   of   Restoration    Plays     ....  103 

Protest  of  Collier 105 

Work  and  Influence  of  Dryden 106 

Influence  of  Milton 107 

The   Eighteenth-century    Drama 109 

Dryden's   Place   and  Work 110 

An  Era  of  Prose 112 

Addison,    Steele,    Goldsmith,    Sheridan     .      .     .  112 

The   Nineteenth-century    Drama 114 

An  Inferior  Order 115 

The    Contemporary    Drama 117 


VI.-ROMANTIC  ELEMENT  IN  EUZABETHAN  LETTERS 
Romantic  Element  in  Early  English  Verse     .      . 
Reasons  for  its  Presence  in  Time  of  Elizabeth 
Its  Evidences — seen  in   Verse  and  Prose     . 

Reproduction  of  Medievalism 

The    Revival    of    Learning    induced    it     .      .      . 


118 
118 
120 
120 
121 


xii  Summary  of  Contents 

An  Element  in  the  Englisli  Reformation     ....  125 

Conspicuous  in  the  Drama  and  Lyric 125 

Its  Effects .127 

Imparted  New  Interest  to  Elizabethan  Letters     .  127 

Furnished  New  Literary  Material 129 

Expressed  in  Prose  Fiction 131 

Relation  of  Fiction  and  the  Drama 133 

This  Romantic  Element  in  Later  English  Literature     .  134 

PART  SECOND:  SPECIAL  DISCUSSIONS 
I.-EX)MUND  SPENSER  AND  THE  ENGUSH  REFORMATION 

Relation  of  Literature  and  History 139 

Spenser's   Attitude   toward   Classical   Paganism     .     .  141 

The  Revival  of  Greek  Learning 142 

Continental   Pagan  Influence 143 

Spenser's   Attitude   toward   Romanism 144 

Exemplified  in  his  Poetry — "  The  Faerie  Queene  " 

and   Shorter  Poems 145 

Spenser's  Attitude  toward  Puritanism  and  Calvinism  155 

Relation  of  Later  English  Authors  to  the  Reformation  160 

II.-SPENSER  AND  LATER  ENGLISH  SONNETEERS 

Appeal  of  the  Sonnet  to  All  Authors 163 

Spenser's   Sonnet  Collections     . 164 

"  The  Ruines   of   Rome  " 164 

"  The  Visions  of  Bellay  " 165 

*'The  Visions  of  Petrarch" 165 

"The  Visions  of  the  World's  Vanitie"  ....  165 

"Amoretti" ' 165 

Milton , 167 

Wordsworth 170 

Later  Sonneteers — Keats,  Coleridge,  Arnold,  Rossetti, 

Mrs.  Browning 181 

IIl.-THE  SONNETS  OF  SHAKESPEARE 

Origin  and  History  of  the  English  Sonnet     ....  193 

Absence  in  Chaucer — Reasons       194 


Summary  of  Contents  xiii 


Nature  and  Structure 195 

Special  Interest  in  Shakespeare's  Sonnets       .     .  198 

Their  Number 198 

Date 198 

To  Whom  Addressed 198 

Authorship 199 

Autobiographical    Character 199 

Relation   to   Each   Other 200 

Classification 200 

Purpose 201 

Poetic  Quality 204 

Open    Questions 208 

The  Rival  Poet 209 

The  "  Dark-ihaired  "  Woman 209 

Personal  Character  of  the  Author 209 

Effect  on  the  Author's  Fame 210 


IV -THE  POETRY  OF  COLERIDGE 

Life  and  Character  of  Coleridge 213 

His    Poetry 220 

Characteristic  Defects  of  His  Verse 22-1 

Political    Type 224 

Lack   of  Poetic   Instinct 226 

Fragmentary  Nature 227 

Merits  of  His  Verse 228 

Poetic  Diction  of  High  Type 228 

Mystical  Elements 229 

Emphasis  of  Nature 281 

Rebuke  of  Civic  Wrong 233 

V.-THE  POETRY  OF  WORDSWORTH 

His  Theory  of  Poetry 236 

His  View  of  Nature 241 

Characteristics  of  His  Verse 248 

Ethical  Type 2-^8 

Emotional   Element 251 

Intellectual    Vigor 259 

Defects  of  His  Verse 264 

His   Place   in  English   Verse 267 


xiv  Summary  of  Contents 

VI.-TENNYSON'S   'IDYLLS  OF  THE  KING" 
Tbe  Fitness  of  the  Term   "Idyll"     .      .      .      .      .      .271 

The  Origin  of  the  Poem 272 

Its  Structure  or  Plan 274 

Its   Teaching,    Primary    and    Subordinate     ....  279 

Features    of    Style,    Method,    Scope 282 

Diction 282 

Dramatic    Element 286 

Medieval  and  Modern 288 

Lyric     Excellence 289 

Defects    of    the    Poem 291 

The  Poet's  Permanent  Place  and  Fame 292 

VII.-TENNYSON'S  "IN  MEMORIAM" 

Its  Occasion 296 

Its  Structure 297 

Its  Purpose 301 

Its  Relation  to  the  Time 303 

Its  Relation  to  Other  Poems  of  the  Author     ...  306 

Its  Special  Qualities 309 

Its  Poetic  Form  combines  Intellect  and  Art     .      .      .  311 

Its  Relation  to  Man,  and  the  Author's  Personality     .  316 

Its  Latent  Meaning 317 


PART  FIRST 


GENERAL  DISCUSSIONS 


THE  INDEBTEDNESS  OF  LATER  ENGLISH  LITER- 
ATURE TO  EARLIER 

Chronologically  viewed,  we  mean  by  our 
**  earlier "  literature  that  portion  of  it  lying  be- 
tween the  "  Paraphrase  "  of  Caedmon,  in  the  sev- 
enth century,  and  the  Revival  of  Learning,  in  the 
sixteenth,  —  a  period,  in  so  far  as  time  is  con- 
cerned, of  nine  centuries,  as  compared  with  the 
more  than  three  centuries  that  have  passed  since 
the  days  of  Elizabeth.  It  is  naturally  divisible  into 
the  Old  English  Period,  from  Caedmon  to  the 
Norman  Conquest  of  1066,  or  to  the  close  of  the 
**  Chronicle,"  in  1154,  and  the  Age  of  Chaucer, 
1350,  to  the  days  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  the 
opening  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  in  1558.  No 
careful  student  of  what  may  be  called  the  His- 
torical Development  of  English  Letters  can  fail, 
at  the  very  outset  of  his  inquiries,  to  institute  the 
question  now  suggested.  What  is  the  chronological 
and  logical  relation  of  these  several  centuries  to 
each  other,  —  the  later  to  the  earlier,  the  progres- 
sive and  settled  to  the  initial  and  formative,  and 

3 


4  General  Discussions 

to  what  degree  in  particular  may  the  one  be  said 
to  be  dependent  on  the  other? 

We  notice,  first  of  all,  that,  a  priori,  there  must 
exist  this  historical  order,  and  that  it  must  be 
studied  as  an  essential  factor  in  literary  interpre- 
tation. That  is  but  a  partial  and  unscholarly  ex- 
amination of  any  subject  which  begins  midway  in 
the  series  of  developments  that  it  includes.  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  historical  unity  and  continuity 
in  literature,  a  well-established  law  of  sequence  as 
vital  in  its  place  and  action  as  in  any  sphere  of 
liberal  study  or  social  and  civic  order.  The  class- 
ical ages  of  Pericles  and  Augustus  cannot  be 
rationally  interpreted  apart  from  a  knowledge  of 
antecedent  Greek  and  Roman  letters.  It  would  not 
be  in  order  to  open  the  investigation  of  Italian 
letters  with  Ariosto  or  even  with  Petrarch,  nor 
that  of  France  and  Germany  with  Racine  and 
Klopstock.  None  the  less  safely  can  the  Eng- 
lish student  begin  with  Spenser  and  Shakespeare 
and  begin  aright.  The  study  of  the  Periclean  and 
Augustan  eras,  representative  as  they  were,  and 
because  representative,  must  be  antedated  by  that 
of  the  eras  preceding,  though  inferior;  that  of 
Petrarch  by  that  of  Dante  and  his  forerunners 
and  the  influence  of  Arabia  in  Southern  Europe; 


Later  and  Earlier  English  Literature  ,5 

and  that  of  Moliere  by  that  of  the  Trouveres  and 
Troubadours  and  Rabelais  and  Ronsard.  Before 
we  study  Klopstock's  "  Messiah "  and  the  new 
classical  era  that  he  inaugurated  in  Germany,  the 
Minnesanger  and  Meistersanger  must  be  exam- 
ined. So,  in  England,  we  must  go  back  of  Eliza- 
beth to  Edward  the  Third,  and  back  of  Chaucer 
to  the  "  Chronicle "  and  the  Conquest,  and  back 
of  the  Anglo-Norman  to  the  oldest  English  of 
Alfred  and  Cynewulf  and  ^Ifric  and  Csedmon. 
This  is  particularly  true  of  English  poetry.  Inas- 
much as  our  prose  did  not  take  national  form  till 
the  days  of  Hooker  and  Bacon,  the  principle  of 
continuity  as  related  to  the  pre-Elizabethan  cen- 
turies is  not,  perchance,  so  conspicuous  and  real. 
In  English  verse,  however,  it  is  radically  different, 
in  that  Chaucer  stands  at  the  opening  of  a  na- 
tional movement,  and  he  himself  embodies  its 
spirit. 

Whatever  may  be  the  relation  of  Hooker  and 
Wyclif  as  prose  writers,  or  of  Raleigh  and  Fortes- 
cue,  or  of  the  sixteenth  century  in  general  and  the 
fifteenth  and  fourteenth,  the  relation  of  Spenser 
to  Chaucer,  and  of  the  Elizabethan  poets  to  their 
predecessors,  is  historic  and  undoubted,  and  must 
be  so  regarded  by  every  discerning  student.    There 


6  General  Discussions 

is  such  a  study  as  Literary  Palaeontology ;  a  recur- 
rence, by  necessity,  to  first  conditions,  first  forms 
and  movements,  not  only  by  reason  of  their  in- 
trinsic importance,  but  because  of  their  interpre- 
tative relation  to  conditions  and  tendencies  that 
follow  them  and  that  are  partly  occasioned  by 
them.  There  is  in  English  letters,  as  in  the 
Scriptures,  an  Old  Testament  as  well  as  a  New, 
to  be  together  examined  as  mutually  explanatory. 
Such  being  the  nexus,  a  priori,  between  the 
younger  and  the  older  England  in  the  sphere  of 
letters,  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  fuller  ac- 
knowledgment of  such  a  relation  is  one  of  the 
most  healthful  signs  of  the  times.  So  rapidly  are 
long-existing  prejudices  disappearing  in  the  light 
of  new  conditions,  so  surely  has  tradition  given 
place  to  fact  and  educational  demand  in  our  mod- 
ern institutions  of  learning,  that  there  is  no  longer 
need  of  labored  argument  whereby  to  arouse  the 
indififerent.  "  It  can  hardly  be  necessary  to  insist 
on  the  fact,"  writes  Earle,  "  that  our  time  is  char- 
acterized by  a  desire  for  the  restitution  of  vernac- 
ular English.  Amidst  all  the  diversities  of  literary 
English  of  this  century,  the  one  predominant  and 
universal  character  is  the  growing  appetite  for  the 


Later  and  Earlier  English  Literature  7 

original  and  native  forms  of  the  mother  tongue." 
What  Earle  here  appHes  with  special  emphasis  to 
the  English  language  is  substantially  applicable  to 
English  literature  in  its  entirety.  As  the  philoso- 
phers are  calling  us  back  to  Kant,  and  the  theo- 
logians calling  us  back  to  Paul,  so  are  the  wisest 
of  our  English  critics  calling  us  back  to  the  olden 
time  of  Alfred  and  Chaucer  and  Caxton. 

The  subject  of  interest,  therefore,  which  con- 
fronts us,  is  that  of  the  general  and  specific  forms 
in  which  such  indebtedness  of  our  later  to  our 
earlier  literature  has  expressed  and  is  expressing 
itself,  as  the  history  of  the  literature  develops  from 
age  to  age.  As  far  as  general  indebtedness  is  con- 
cerned,- there  are  three  or  four  literary  qualities 
directly  traceable  to  this  earlier  influence  which  it 
would  be  well  for  our  Modern  English  Letters  to 
conserve  with  an  ever-stricter  fidelity. 

1.  The  first  of  these  is  literary  vigor  or  spirit, 
as  opposed  to  all  that  is  impotent,  indifferent,  and 
spiritless,  —  a  strong  and  stalwart  energy  of  soul, 
expressing  itself  in  varied  forms  of  efficiency,  and 
proof  against  all  attempts  to  stifle  it.  The  most 
captious  critics  of  our  older  authorship  have  never 
denied  it  this  claim  of  literary  vigor.  Even  if  it 
be  conceded  that  the  literature  of  this  earlier  time 


8  General  Discussions 

was  in  a  sense  unliterary  or  non-literary,  some- 
what crude  in  type  and  quite  devoid  of  any  marked 
artistic  quality,  it  has  been  contended,  with  equal 
zeal,  that  what  was  lacking  in  artistic  finish  was 
fully  supplied  in  mental  force,  and  in  the  pro- 
nounced personality  of  the  respective  authors.  Nor 
is  it  at  all  difficult  to  account  for  such  a  type  of 
authorship.  It  comes  by  racial  inheritance,  by  spe- 
cific national  tradition,  through  the  medium  of 
established  historic  sequence.  It  is  of  genuine 
Germanic  origin,  Gothic  and  Teutonic,  as  distinct 
from  Latinic;  a  real  North-European  contribution 
to  general  letters,  and  to  the  English  in  particular, 
conspicuously  contrasted  with  the  South-European 
type,  save  in  so  far  as  such  a  type  may  be  said  to 
have  entered  somewhat  to  modify  the  old  Gothic 
bluntness  of  manners.  Hence  the  marked  epic 
and  dramatic  quality  of  much  of  the  older  verse, 
as  it  appears  in  the  graphic  lines  of  "  Beowulf," 
the  great  battle-epic  of  Old  English ;  in  "  The  Bat- 
tle of  Maldon  "  and  "  The  Battle  of  Brunanburh," 
the  two  most  famous  Old  English  battle-lyrics;  in 
*'  Elene,"  with  its  sacred  story  of  Constantine  and 
the  Cross ;  in  the  recorded  battles  of  the  "  Chron- 
icle " ;  in  the  various  legends  of  heroes  and  mar- 
tyrs, such  as  Guthlac  and  Juliana  and  Judith  and 


Later  and  Earlier  Enirlish  Literature 


Saint  Andrew,  who  suffered  and  triumphed  on 
behalf  of  right  and  truth  and  honor  and  chastity. 
In- the  later  Middle  English  Period,  the  same  un- 
daunted spirit  is  manifest  in  Layamon's  '*  Brut  " 
and  Robert  of  Gloucester's  "  Chronicle  " ;  in  the 
political  tributes  of  Minot  to  English  valor;  in  the 
trenchant  satire  of  Chaucer  and  Langland  against 
all  tyranny  and  corruption  in  church  and  state;  as 
in  the  verse  and  prose  of  Lydgate  and  Skelton  and 
Wyclif  and  Latimer  down  to  the  days  of  Sir 
Thomas  Wyatt,  in  his  bold  defense  of  the  common 
people  against  the  exactions  of  kings  and  courtiers, 
when  monasteries  hoary  with  age  were  dissolved 
in  the  interests  of  public  liberty  and  social  order, 
when  free  discussion  took  the  place  of  bigotry, 
and  the  way  was  opened  for  the  wide  diffusion  of 
liberty  and  learning.  All  this  is  in  the  line  of  spe- 
cific literary  vigor,  an  order  of  character  and  style 
fortunately  illustrated  at  the  very  opening  of  our 
literary  history,  and  thus  setting  the  form  for  all 
that  was  to  follow.  Thus  it  is  in  no  sense  sur- 
prising that  when  the  authors  of  our  first  modern 
era,  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  addressed  them- 
selves to  their  literary  work,  they  did  it  with  the 
open  page  of  this  earlier  history  before  them,  and 
felt  it  incumbent  upon  them  to  preserve  the  his- 


10  General  Discussions 

toric  reputation  of  the  nation's  authorship  for 
mental  and  Hterary  strength.  After  the  Golden 
Age  down  to  the  Victorian  Era,  so  faithful  has 
been  this  adherence  to  the  best  traditions  of  the 
past,  that  the  era  of  the  Stuart  Restoration  may 
be  said  to  be  the  only  one  that  has  marked  a  for- 
getfulness  of  it,  while  even  then  the  voice  of  pro- 
test was  often  heard  and  heeded.  What  has  rightly 
been  called  the  "  Old  English  directness  of  state- 
ment," saying  what  is  meant  with  monosyllabic 
brevity,  is  but  one  of  the  many  phases  of  this  in- 
herent terseness  of  statement,  a  real  historic  coun- 
terpart of  the  laconic  language  of  Sparta. 

2.  The  second  literary  quality  which  bears  the 
evident  marks  of  its  early  origin,  and  furnishes  to 
Modern  English  Literature  a  valid  element  of  in- 
debtedness, is  naturalness,  —  an  order  of  utterance 
singularly  notable  for  its  unstudied  character,  its 
independence  of  schools  and  models,  of  established 
rules  and  methods.  We  may  call  it  spontaneity, 
the  free  outspokenness  of  men  and  authors  who 
felt  that  they  were  free  to  think  and  speak  for 
themselves,  and  who  further  felt  that  the  obligation 
was  upon  them  to  set  the  form  of  free  expression 
for  all  the  generations  that  were  to  follow.  The 
Great    Charter    of    political    freedom    which    the 


Later  and  Earlier  Eihglish  Literature         11 

barons  wrested  from  King  John  in  the  opening 
years  of  the  thirteenth  century  was  fully  paralleled 
by  the  manner  in  which  our  older  authors  insisted, 
in  the  face  of  all  opposition,  that  their  thoughts 
were  their  own,  for  which  they  alone  were  respon- 
sible, and  that  to  modify  or  suppress  them  was  to 
run  counter  to  their  best  instincts  and  interests, 
and  to  be  untrue  to  their  lineage  as  English.  "  Be 
that  thou  art  "  was  the  accepted  motto  of  the  time ; 
no  less,  no  more,  none  other.  Here  again,  as  in  the 
expression  of  literary  vigor,  it  often  happened  that 
a  high  degree  of  aesthetic  finish  was  sacrificed  to  the 
artless  utterances  of  nature,  nor  did  the  literature 
in  the  end  sustain  any  permanent  loss  thereby.  Of 
all  the  pre-Elizabethan  authors  who  embodied  in 
their  spirit  and  work  this  invaluable  quality  of 
naturalness,  it  was  Alfred  and  Chaucer,  the  re- 
spective representatives  of  tenth-century  prose  and 
fourteenth-century  verse,  who  most  thoroughly 
expressed  it,  and  left  an  impression  upon  the  liter- 
ature of  the  time  which  nothing  finite  can  efface. 
Speaking  after  the  manner  of  the  jurist  at  the 
bar,  we  might  rest  the  case  of  the  obligations  of 
later  to  earlier  English  at  this  particular  point 
with  Alfred  and  Chaucer,  who  were  nothing  if  not 
natural,  asking  no  questions,   founding  no  school. 


12  General  Discussions  ' 

taking  counsel  of  themselves  and  the  most  urgent 
demands  of  the  time,  eager  to  reveal  the  truth  that 
nature  precedes  art,  that  in  literature  there  must 
be  freedom,  and  the  impulses  of  the  heart  be  al- 
lowed to  assert  themselves.  The  Old  English  word 
"  freshness "  well  expresses  this  tonic  quality  in 
these  authors,  as  we  speak  of  the  freshness  of  an 
October  morning,  the  out-of-door  life  of  the  woods 
and  streams  as  contrasted  with  the  seclusion  of 
the  cloister  and  library.  There  is  thus  a  sense  in 
which  it  is  true  that  every  literary  age  since  then, 
in  so  far  as  it  has  been  natural,  has  been  some- 
what indebted  to  them  for  its  original  impulse,  as 
all  eras  devoid  of  this  feature  have  marked  a  de- 
parture from  older  standards.  It  was  so  in  the 
free  expression  of  Elizabethan  letters,  especially  in 
poetry;  in  the  spontaneity  of  Milton's  prose  and 
verse;  in  the  natural  lines  of  Goldsmith  and  Burns 
and  Moore.  What  is  known  as  the  Romantic  Re- 
vival was  but  a  reproduction  in  the  modern  era  of 
this  genuine  Chaucerian  spirit,  the  clear  recall  of 
the  nation  to  its  best  poetic  past,  if  so  be  it  was 
to  keep  even  pace  with  other  nations  in  the  devel- 
opment of  letters.  Even  now,  as  contemporary 
English  literature  is  unfolding,  we  are  reminded, 
once    and    again,    that    we    cannot    forget,    if    we 


Later  and  Earlier  English  Literature        13 

would,  that  Alfred's  prose  and  Chaucer's  verse 
have  had  no  superior  as  specimens  of  natural  Eng- 
lish. 

3.  An  additional  feature  of  indebtedness  is  seen 
in  the  uniform  sobriety  of  the  older  writers;  in- 
duced, partly,  by  what  Taine  would  call  the  "  nat- 
ural temperament "  of  the  English  race ;  partly, 
by  the  peculiar  and  often  adverse  conditions  under 
which  our  earlier  literature  was  developed;  partly, 
it  would  seem,  by  the  close  relation  of  the  older 
authorship  to  the  ecclesiastical  life  of  the  time ; 
and  somewhat,  also,  by  an  evident  purpose  on  the 
part  of  these  authors  to  embody  all  literature  in 
ethical  form,  both  for  the  well-being,  as  they 
thought,  of  literature  itself,  and  that  of  the  gen- 
eral public.  It  was,  indeed,  this  spirit  of  personal 
and  literary  seriousness  that  the  Angles  and  Sax- 
ons found  in  the  fifth  century  so  impressively 
illustrated  in  the  original  Celtic  population  of 
Britain,  when  Britain  was  full  of  native  Celtic 
teachers,  and  missionaries  from  the  Continent  en- 
tered to  extend  the  evangelistic  work.  This  fea- 
ture first  appears  in  our  earliest  English  epic,  the 
''  Paraphrase  "  of  Csedmon,  which,  as  scriptural  in 
its  basis  and  content,  naturally  is  characterized 
throughout  by  a  specific  sedateness  of  manner.    It 


14  General  Discussions 

appears  in  the  successive  translations  and  versions 
of  the  Bible  into  the  vernacular,  if  so  be  our  oldest 
prose  and  verse  might,  at  the  very  beginning,  be 
rightly  impressed  and  directed.  Thus  Bede  pre- 
pared the  Gospels;  Aldhelm  and  Alfred,  the 
Psalms;  ^Ifric,  the  Pentateuch;  and  Wyclif  and 
Tyndale,  the  Bible  as  a  whole.  Thus  Bede  wrote 
his  "  Ecclesiastical  History  of  Britain,"  and  Alfred 
his  version  of  Boethius'  "  Consolation  of  Philoso- 
phy." So  Cynewulf  wrote  his  "Andreas "  and 
"  Elene "  and  "  Christ,"  a  notable  trilogy  of  sa- 
cred song.  Even  in  "  Beowulf,"  the  great  pagan, 
secular  epic  of  the  time,  there  is  seen  this  pervasive 
gravity  of  tone  and  purpose  in  its  portraiture  of 
the  severe  Northern  life  of  the  Scandinavian  peo- 
ples as  related  to  the  English.  So  Layamon  and 
Orm  and  their  contemporaries  wrote  sacred  and 
secular  treatises  on  behalf  of  truth  and  purity. 
When  Sir  John  Mandeville  wrote  of  his  travels 
in  the  East,  it  was  in  this  distinctively  serious 
manner,  while  Caxton,  the  first  English  printer, 
and  Hugh  Latimer,  the  great  Plantagenet  reformer 
and  preacher,  wrote  and  taught  for  the  same  great 
end.  The  church  and  the  school  were  practically 
one  institution.  Even  the  church  and  the  stage 
were  inseparably  connected.     The  current  sayings 


Later  and  Earlier  English  Literature        15 

and  proverbs  of  the  time  were  begotten  of  the 
more  serious  moods  of  the  common  mind.  What 
such  satirists  as  Lydgate,  Skelton,  Gascoigne,  and 
Langland  wrote  they  wrote  with  the  soberest  in- 
tent; so  that  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the 
current  distinction  between  the  secular  and  the  sa- 
cred was  well-nigh  effaced  in  this  older  era.  In 
fine,  look  where  we  will  in  the  prose  and  verse, 
the  student  is  impressed  by  the  fact  that  he  is 
reading  an  order  of  authors  who  thought,  first  of 
all,  of  the  moral  effect  of  their  writings,  and  but 
secondarily  of  their  specific  literary  value. 

Nor  should  it  be  forgotten  that,  as  a  whole,  the 
literature,  though  serious,  was  not  serious  to  a 
fault,  dwelling  by  preference  on  the  more  forbid- 
ding phases  of  human  life,  and  making  a  virtue 
of  despondency.  Despite^  the  allegations  of  Taine 
and  other  higher  critics,  the  dominant  tone  is  se- 
date without  being  somber;  manly  without  being 
morose;  and  designed  above  all  to  impress  upon 
the  reader  the  necessity  and  duty  of  looking  upon 
life  from  a  rational  point  of  view.  One  will 
search  in  vain  among  these  older  poets  for  such  a 
character  as  Byron,  or  such  a  poem  as  "  Don 
Juan,"  or  "Queen  Mab,"  or  "  Chastelard."  The 
temper  of  the  time,  the  character  of  the  authors, 


16  General  Discussions 

and  their  literary  conscience  made  such  an  order 
of  verse  impossible.  The  older  literature  had  its 
errors  and  defects,  in  the  form  of  limitation  of 
outlook,  partial  development,  lack  of  aesthetic  taste, 
and  undue  conservatism,  but  not  in  the  line  of  the 
unwholesome  or  of  questionable  motive  and  spirit. 

Such  are  the  three  specific  qualities  received  by 
inheritance  from  our  earlier  literature  —  Vigor, 
Naturalness,  and  Sobriety,  nor  can  they  be  too 
sedulously  cherished  as  our  literary  history  devel- 
ops; first  of  all,  a  trenchant  order  of  style,  where 
the  writer  fearlessly  reveals  his  mind  and  in  lan- 
guage unmistakably  clear;  next  to  this,  an  un- 
studied and  self-expressing  freedom  of  utterance, 
independent  of  all  formalism  or  restrictive  literary 
statute;  and,  last  of  all,  a  well-ordered  gravity  of 
diction  and  spirit,  whereby  literature  may  be 
safely  guarded  against  excess,  and  developed  on 
behalf  of  truth  and  the  highest  human  interests. 
In  a  word,  vitality  and  sanity  make  up  the  legacy 
received,  a  healthful  and  normal  order  of  expres- 
sion, which,  with  all  its  faults  and  limitations,  has 
never  been  charged  with  indifference  or  a  disre- 
gard of  what  is  most  beneficent  to  a  people's  life 
and  letters. 


Later  and  Earlier  English  Literature         17 

It  is  in  place  to  note  with  emphasis  the  fact  that 
these  are  the  three  special  qualities  that  are  some- 
what in  jeopardy  as  modern  literary  tendencies  re- 
veal themselves.  In  so  far  as  these  tendencies  are 
at  present  capable  of  interpretation,  they  may  be 
said  to  lie  in  the  line  of  literary  impotency;  undue 
attention  to  technique,  and  an  increasing  represen- 
tation of  human  life  on  its  cheerless  and  hopeless 
side.  Such  a  lack  of  masculine  virility  is  especially 
noticeable  in  modern  fiction,  undue  attention  to 
verbal  structure  being  prominent  in  verse;  while, 
in  prose  fiction  and  poetry  alike,  the  utterances  of 
the  pessimist  find,  too  frequent  expression.  In  this 
last  class  of  authors  are  such  notable  names  as 
Matthew  Arnold  and  Clough.  Tennyson  himself 
has  often  erred  on  the  side  of  verbal  mechanism, 
while  the  large  majority  of  miscellaneous  prose 
writers  and  poets  add  nothing,  when  they  write, 
to  the  substantive  intellectual  product  of  the  time. 
These  are  tendencies  only,  but  none  the  less  peril- 
ous, and  are  to  be  carefully  noted  and  corrected 
by  all  who  are  interested  in  the  progress  of  Eng- 
lish letters.  Signs  of  protest  are  already  at  hand. 
Here  and  there,  earnest  voices  are  raised,  recall- 
ing the  nation  to  its  earlier  history.  The  late  Poet 
Laureate,  whatever  his  defects,  zealously  worked 


18  General  Discussions 

along  this  higher  Hne.  The  poetry  of  Watson  and 
Noyes  is  attracting  deserved  attention,  especially 
by  reason  of  the  natural  impulse  that  inspires  it, 
the  old  Chaucerian  life  and  spirit;  while  not  a 
few  of  those  who  class  themselves  of  the  school  of 
Tennyson,  Browning,  and  Swinburne  are  not 
afraid  to  rebuke  the  verbal  mechanism,  obscurity, 
and  sensuousness  of  these  respective  authors.  As 
nations  increase  in  wealth  and  power,  and  social 
conditions  become  more  complex,  and  life  departs 
more  and  more  widely  from  primitive  ideals ;  so 
a  nation's  literature  assumes  the  same  abnormal 
features,  and  becomes  less  and  less  distinctive. 

SUGGESTIONS 

From  this  discussion  some  inferences  of  value 
follow. 

1.  We  notice,  that,  in  so  far  as  English  let- 
ters are  concerned,  the  study  of  the  earlier  lit- 
erature necessarily  involves  the  study  of  the 
language,  in  a  sense  not  actual  or  possible  in  mod- 
ern eras.  English  literature  and  English  phi- 
lology are  not  only  more  intimately  connected  in 
the  pre-Elizabethan  period  than  in  any  subsequent 
era,  but  they  are  practically  and  historically  one 
and  the  same  study.     Inasmuch   as  the  prose  of 


Later  and  Earlier  English  Literature         19 

Alfred  and  the  verse  of  Caedmon  and  Cynewulf 
must  be  approached  and  interpreted  through  gram- 
mar and  glossary  and  Old  English  text,  the  stu- 
dent of  this  oldest  literature  finds  himself,  perforce, 
a  student  of  English  on  its  linguistic  side,  empha- 
sizing the  language  first  and  the  literature  after- 
ward. Even  after  the  Norman  Conquest,  and  the 
close  of  the  "  Chronicle,"  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
twelfth  century,  as  the  student  finds  himself  among 
the  products  of  fourteenth-century  English,  down 
to  the  days  of  Caxton  and  Wyatt,  there  is  a  sense 
in  which  the  study  of  English  philology  is  the 
necessary  prerequisite  to  the  study  of  English  lit- 
erature ;  the  text  of  "  The  Canterbury  Tales  "  and 
"  Piers  the  Plowman "  affording  a  convenient 
manual  for  the  specifically  linguistic  examination 
of  fourteenth-century  English.  So  prominent,  in- 
deed, and  essential,  is  this  philological  feature, 
that,  here  and  there,  critics  of  literature  have 
started  the  question  as  to  the  possibility  of  as- 
signing the  beginning  of  English  literature  proper 
to  a  period  prior  to  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sev- 
enth. Such  a  question  is  a  plausible  and  natural 
one,  and  yet  a  superficial  one,  proving  entirely  too 
much  in  its  application  to  other  literatures.  It 
loses  sight  of  the  fact  that  literature,  in  its  evident 


^0  General  Discussions 

province,  embraces  every  product  of  authorship, 
prose,  and  verse,  earlier  and  later,  quite  irrespect- 
ive of  the  special  stage  of  the  development  of  the 
language  at  the  publication  of  any  particular  work. 
Certainly,  Greek  literature  is  not  confined  to  mod- 
ern or  spoken  Greek,  but  is  mainly  treasured  up 
in  what  may  be  called  the  strictly  philological 
form  of  the  authorship,  when  lexicon  and  com- 
mentary and  grammar  must  be  studied  in  order 
to  reach  the  literature.  This  is  eminently  true  of 
all  dead  languages,  the  literature  of  which,  be- 
cause they  are  unspoken,  is  only  to  be  found  by 
linguistic  examination.  Even  in  the  tongues  of 
Modern  Continental  Europe,  as  the  German  and 
French,  the  same  principle  is  approximately  true. 
Old  and  Middle  High  German  are  subjects  of 
philological  investigation  in  a  sense  not  true  of 
Modern  German,  and  yet  no  one  would  be  so  nar- 
row as  to  affirm  that  German  literature  as  such 
does  not  begin  till  the  days  of  Luther.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  Old  French  as  distinct  from  Mod- 
ern French;  the  former  being  a  more  distinctively 
philological  study,  and  yet  having  a  literature  of 
its  own,  vitally  related  to  all  that  follows  it.  So 
with  our  vernacular  as  a  language  and  literature 
in  its  older  eras,  it  being  reserved  for  the  modern 


Later  and  Earlier  Ens:lish  Literature        31 


&' 


era  of  Shakespeare,  Milton,  and  Addison  to  assign 
the  Hnguistic  and  the  Hterary  to  their  respective 
spheres.  Herein  lie  the  unity  and  diversity  of 
English  philology  and  letters,  and  w^ithout  any  vio- 
lation of  historical   fact  or  logical  principle. 

2.  A  second  suggestion  of  interest  may  be  in 
this  form:  Post-Elizabethan  Authors,  Periods,  and 
Literary  Movements  may  be  tested  and  classified 
in  the  light  of  this  historic  indebtedness,  as  to 
whether  or  not  they  have  acknowledged  it  at  all, 
and,  if  acknowledging  it,  to  what  degree  and 
with  what  measure  of  enthusiasm.  In  the  Age 
of  Elizabeth  as  the  golden  age  of  the  English 
drama  and  English  literature  in  general,  and  the 
first  era  of  Modern  English  Letters,  and  thus 
chronologically  nearer  to  the  older  epoch,  it  is 
natural  to  find  a  free  and  full  appreciation  of  such 
a  relation  of  interdependence,  so  that  Spenser 
aimed  to  reinstate  the  influence  of  Chaucer;  and 
Shakespeare  himself,  with  all  his  genius,  made 
constant  reference  to  the  earlier  chroniclers,  as 
affording  him  the  necessary  data  for  his  dramatic 
work.  The  relation  of  the  Elizabethan  drama, 
historically  viewed,  to  the  Old  English  drama,  is 
patent  to  every  English  scholar;  the  nexus  being 
so   vital   and   pronounced  that   Lowell   ignores  all 


22  General  Discussions 

distinctions  of  time,  and  discusses  the  writings  of 
Ford,  Chapman,  Marlowe,  and  Massinger  under 
the  common  caption  of  Old  English  Dramatists. 
In  the  reign  of  the  Stuarts  this  bond  of  relation- 
ship is  less  conspicuous,  though  existent;  the  in- 
fluence of  Milton,  especially  in  his  poetry,  being 
strongly  conservative  in  this  direction.  Such  less 
notable  authors  as  Herbert,  Wither,  Fuller,  and 
Walton,  both  in  the  letter  and  spirit  of  their  writ- 
ings, did  much  to  perpetuate  this  historico-literary 
movement.  The  influence  of  France  in  the  mid- 
dle years  of  the  Stuart  Dynasty  was  far  too  dom- 
inant to  allow  the  old  Alfredian  and  Chaucerian 
spirit  to  have  its  legitimate  sway,  while  even 
such  standard  authors  as  Dryden  and  Pope  may 
be  said  to  have  done  little  or  nothing  in  the 
line  of  such  acknowledgment,  Dryden's  attempted 
modernization  of  Chaucer  totally  failing  of  any 
beneficent  result.  It  was  not  till  the  rise  of  the 
Romantic  Era,  and  the  beginning  of  what  Mr. 
Courthope  has  called  The  Liberal  Movement  in 
English  Letters,  that  this  acknowledgment  of  the 
older  authorship  was  again  distinctive  and  appre- 
ciated and  the  way  widely  opened  for  what 
was  best  in  Elizabethan  letters.  Thomson,  Cow- 
per.    Burns,   Wordsworth,   Goldsmith,   and   Byron 


Later  and  Earlier  English  Literature        23 

breathed  this  fresher  air,  and  awakened  anew 
the  dormant  energies  of  the  England  of  their  day ; 
while  down  through  the  reign  of  the  successive 
Georges,  and  well  on  to  the  time  of  Tennyson,  the 
spirit  of  the  literature  may  be  said  to  have  ex- 
pressed a  happy  combination  of  the  old  and  the 
new,  the  traditional  and  the  progressive.  Tenny- 
son did  an  invaluable  work  in  calling  his  country- 
men to  an  appreciative  survey  of  the  literary 
England  that  lay  far  behind  them  in  the  days  of 
Malory  and  the  old  Celtic  legends  of  Arthur  and 
his  Knights.  Mr.  Brooke,  after  stating  "  that  the 
Norman  Conquest  put  to  the  sword  what  was  left 
in  Wessex  of  English  literature,"  hastens  to  add, 
"  Though  sorely  wounded,  English  literature  was 
not  slain.  It  retired  from  the  world  in  country 
villages,  in  secluded  monasteries,  slowly  gathering 
strength,  assimilating  fresh  influences  until  Nor- 
man and  English  were  woven  politically  into  one 
people."  It  is  these  *'  fresh  influences "  that 
found  their  way  by  natural  process  dawn  through 
the  Middle  English  Period  to  the  day  of  Words- 
worth and  our  own  American  Whittier,  and  bid 
fair  to  be  a  permanent  feature  of  every  future  era. 
The  Old  and  the  New  English  are  in  a  sense  con- 
temporary. 


24  General  Discussions 

In  fine,  there  is  such  a  principle  as  Relativity  in 
Literature,  such  a  spirit  as  the  Historico-Literary 
Spirit, —  a  deference  to  the  past  because  it  is 
past,  and  because,  as  such,  it  holds  the  beginnings 
of  all  later  movements.  King  Alfred  has  been 
dead  a  thousand  years,  and  Chaucer  five  hundred, 
and,  yet,  they  are  as  much  alive  to-day  in  all  Eng- 
lish-speaking countries  as  if  they  were  walking 
along  our  streets  and  conversing  with  us ;  so  clear 
is  the  literary  debt  of  the  twentieth  century  to 
the  tenth  and  the  fourteenth. 


II 


THE  HISTORICAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF  ENGLISH 
PROSE 

As  a  matter  of  history,  prose  is  of  later  origin 
than  verse,  both  in  English  and  general  literature. 
This  refers,  however,  to  standard  prose  as  com- 
pared with  standard  verse,  it  being  true  that  the 
initial  and  immature  forms  of  prose  are  nearly, 
if  not  quite,  as  early  as  those  of  poetry.  This  is 
signally  true  in  English  literature.  It  may  fur- 
ther be  stated  that  there  is  a  principle  of  develop- 
ment in  literature,  historical  and  logical ;  at  times 
concealed,  and  at  times  revealed;  a  development 
demanding  time  for  its  expression  and  indicating 
orderly  succession  and  gradation.  It  is,  in  fine, 
the  principle  of  evolution  in  literature  applied  to 
the  special  province  of  prose.  It  is  thus  that 
Earle  speaks  of  the  first,  second,  and  third  "  cul- 
minations "  of  our  vernacular  prose,  as  reached, 
respectively,  in  the  tenth,  fifteenth,  and  nineteenth 
centuries.  By  this  it  is  meant  that  our  English 
prose  must  be  studied  in  its  regular,  historic  un- 
foldings,  and,  especially,  in  those  standard  periods, 

25 


26  General  Discussions 

or  "  culminations,"  when  the  literary  life  of  the 
nation  came  to  its  fullest  expression.  Viewing 
our  prose,  therefore,  as  a  growth,  and  emphasiz- 
ing the  term  "  historical,"  as  applied  to  it,  we 
may  reach  our  result  the  soonest  by  following, 
chronologically,  the  course  of  the  centuries,  from 
the  days  of  Alfred  to  those  of  Victoria  and  Ed- 
ward the  Seventh.  , 

The  first  period  is  that  of  Old  English,  dating 
from  the  first  invasion  of  Germanic  tribes,  in  447 
A.D.,  to  the  Norman  Conquest  of  1066,  an  initial 
and  experimental  period,  more  vital  than  national, 
in  every  sense  preparative  and  tentative.  Old 
English  prose  did  indeed  exist  centuries  prior  to 
the  Conquest,  but  strictly  as  an  Old  English  type, 
expressed  in  a  text  and  under  grammatical  forms 
practically  unknown  to  the  Modern  English  stu- 
dent. Earle  and  others  insist,  at  one  extreme, 
that  English  prose  dates  from  the  fifth  century. 
"  It  will,  I  fear,"  he  writes,  "  sound  strange  if  I 
assert  that  we  possess  a  longer  pedigree  of  prose 
literature  than  any  other  nation  in  Europe,  and 
that  if  we  seek  to  trace  it  up  to  its  starting  point 
we  are  not  brought  to  a  stand  until  we  have 
mounted  up  to  the  very  earliest  times,  past  the 
threshold    of    English    Christianity    out    into    the 


The  Development   of  English   Prose        27 

heathen  times  beyond,  and  are  close  up  to  the  first 
struggle  of  the  invasion,"  close  up,  he  would  say, 
to  the  entrance  of  the  Jutes,  in  the  middle  of  the 
fifth  century.  At  the  other  extreme,  Matthew 
Arnold  insists  that  our  prose  dates  its  first  actual 
appearance  in  the  seventeenth  century,  though  he 
concedes  that  this  later  prose  is  a  "  re-appearance  " 
of  what  had  existed  far  back  of  the  days  of 
Chaucer.  Each  of  these  critics  is  in  error,  — 
Arnold,  in  deferring  the  rise  of  our  modern  prose 
to  the  time  of  Cowley  and  Milton;  and  Earle,  in 
recording  its  appearance  as  standard  as  far  back 
as  what  he  calls  "  the  obscure  though  well- 
evidenced  remains "  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  cen- 
turies. It  is  especially  in  the  eighth  century,  he 
argues,  that  the  valid  beginnings  of  English  prose 
are  seen,  —  "a  time,"  he  says,  "  in  which  we  can 
produce  a  sustained  and  continuous  narrative  in 
prose "  and  "  displayed  with  something  like  lit- 
erary competency."  This  is  a  conclusion  that 
must  be  accepted  conditionally;  this  prose  of  these 
earlier  centuries  being  such  only  as  Old  English, 
to  be  interpreted  through  grammar  and  glossary 
and  by  way  of  independent  study,  which  down  to 
the  time  of  Chaucer  is  a  study  as  much  linguistic 
as  literary.     The  very  examples  adduced  by  Earle 


28  General  Discussions 

to  prove  his  position  are  a  sufficient  refutation. 
They  are  taken  from  deeds  and  legal  documents, 
from  the  annals  of  "  The  Chronicles,"  "  the  syn- 
tax of  which,"  he  adds,  "  is  'not  more  rugged  than 
that  of  Thucydides."  Of  the  prose  of  the  ninth 
century,  the  Age  of  Alfred,  though  "  full  of 
strength  and  dignity,"  and  "  capable  of  the  attri- 
bution of  style,"  the  statement  must  be  accepted 
with  a  condition  that  we  are  using  the  word 
"  style  "  in  a  strictly  relative  sense ;  as  we  must, 
also,  interpret  Harrison's  phrase  relatively  when 
he  calls  Alfred  the  "  Founder  of  English  Prose." 
Even  in  the  tenth  century,  which  Earle  calls  the 
"  First  Culmination,"  the  extracts  are  taken  from 
land  charters  and  from  the  Bible  Versions  of  the 
time;  in  the  eleventh,  from  the  Homilies  of  Wulf- 
Stan  and  the  Chronicle  of  Worcester;  in  the 
twelfth,  from  the  Peterborough  Chronicle,  and  in 
the  thirteenth  from  a  monastic  production  entitled 
"  The  Wooing  of  Our  Lord."  From  these  selected 
specimens,  the  Bible  Versions  apart,  it  will  be 
seen,  that,  though  they  bring  us  down  to  the  four- 
teenth century  and  the  birth  of  Chaucer,  they  are 
strictly  Old  English  Prose  Specimens,  and  should 
be  classified  as   such. 

It  is  not,   indeed,  till  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 


The  Development   of  English   Prose        29 

century  and  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth,  that  we 
come  to  the  era  of  Modern  EngHsh  Prose,  after 
the  introduction  of  printing  into  England,  in  1477, 
and  the  consequent  revival  of  literature  and  learn- 
ing. The  prose  of  Chaucer,  Mandeville,  and  Wy- 
clif  appears  in  this  transitional.  Middle  English 
Era,  but  it  is  not  till  we  come  to  the  prose  of 
Malory  and  Fortescue  and  the  Paston  Letters, 
and  to  that  of  Caxton,  Latimer,  and  Ascham  and 
to  the  Bible  of  Tyndale,  in  the  days  of  Henry  the 
Eighth,  that  we  clearly  discern  the  dawning  of  a 
modern  era,  the  Golden  Age  of  Hooker  and  Ba- 
con, of  Raleigh  and  Sidney,  the  Age  of  Elizabeth 
and  James.  What  Earle  has  called  the  "  Second 
Culmination "  of  our  prose,  at  the  close  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  is,  indeed,  its  real  beginning, 
when  it  may  be  said  first  to  have  come  to  itself 
and  apprehended  its  literary  mission,  and  first  be- 
came a  true  exponent  of  the  people  as  distinct 
from  scholars  and  the  privileged  orders  of  the 
kingdom. 

Hence  it  is  that  Saintsbury,  in  his  "  Specimens 
of  English  Prose  Style,"  begins,  aright,  with  the 
name  of  Malory,  whose  transfer  of  the  Arthu- 
rian Legends  from  poetry  into  prose,  in  1485,  did 
much  to  establish  English  prose  as  national.    "  We 


30  General  Discussions 

begin  these  specimens,"  says  the  editor,  "  with  the 
invention  of  printing;  not  of  course  denying  the 
title  of  books  written  before  Caxton  set  up  his 
press  to  the  title  of  English  or  of  English  prose. 
In  the  earlier  examples,  however,  the  character 
of  the  passages  ...  is  scarcely  characteristic.  .  .  . 
The  work  of  Malory,  charming  as  it  is,  .  .  .  is  an 
adaptation  of  French  originals " ;  and  he  con- 
cludes by  saying,  "  It  was  not  till  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth  was  some  way  advanced  that  a  definite 
effort  on  the  part  of  writers  to  make  our  English 
prose  style  can  be  perceived."  All  this  is  true, 
and  yet  we  are  not  to  forget  the  fact  that  the  lead- 
ing English  critics  are  at  one  in  the  opinion,  that, 
from  the  standpoint  of  strict  historical  sequence, 
what  we  call  Development,  this  extended  pre- 
Elizabethan  period  must  be  taken  into  account 
and  given  its  fullest  emphasis.  Too  much  stress 
cannot  be  laid  upon  the  fact  that  Elizabethan 
prose,  though  the  first  modern  form,  is  insepara- 
bly connected  with  the  prose  of  Alfred  and  Wy- 
clif;  so  that,  apart  from  such  connection,  the 
later  form  could  not  have  been  what  it  was.  The 
indebtedness  is  direct  and  indirect,  general  and 
special ;  the  most  valuable  inheritance  from  the 
older   forms   being   in   that   inner   spirit   of   vigor 


The  Development   of  English   Prose        31 

and  independence  that  is  so  leading  a  character- 
istic of  everything  Teutonic.  It  is,  indeed,  this 
special  point  which  such  authors  as  Green  and 
Freeman  are  always  pressing,  but  modern  stu- 
dents fail  to  note  this  historic  connection,  which 
becomes  more  and  more  marked  as  we  approach 
the  Golden  Age. 

By  English  Prose  Proper,  therefore,  we  mean 
Modern  English  Prose,  beginning  in  pronounced 
form  in  the  sixteenth  century,  induced,  as  it  was, 
by  the  Revival  of  Learning  and  the  opening  of  the 
Modern  Era.  The  Essays  of  Bacon,  as  Hallam 
states  it,  "  leads  the  van  of  our  prose  literature." 
For  the  first  time,  in  the  history  of  English  liter- 
ature, prose  may  be  said  to  have  become  a  serious 
rival  of  verse,  claiming  the  suffrages  of  the  people 
as  well  as  those  of  the  universities,  insomuch  that 
poetry  needed  such  apologists  as  Sidney  and 
Webbe  to  vindicate  its  claims  and  assure  its  con- 
tinued status.  In  the  time  of  Chaucer,  it  was 
so  manifestly  in  abeyance,  that  his  own  poems 
seemed  to  compass  the  literary  field;  while  it  is 
due  to  Shakespeare  and  his  fellow-dramatists  that, 
in  the  Golden  Age,  poetry  secured  and  maintained 
a  commanding  place,  the  concomitant  growth  of 
sound  and  vigorous  prose  marking  the  era  as  a 


3^  General  Discussions 

comprehensive   one,   and   giving  large  promise   of 
what  the  ages  following  might  reasonably  expect. 

SIXTEENTH^CENTURY    PROSE ELIZABETHAN 

Noting  the  limits  of  the  Elizabethan  Age  as  ex- 
tending from  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century 
to  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  First 
(1550-1649),  we  have  such  prominent  names  as 
Bacon,  Hooker,  Raleigh,  Sidney,  Jonson,  Moore, 
and  others,  representing  what  has  been  called  the 
Early  and  the  Later  Elizabethan  Prose.  These 
writers,  it  is  to  be  carefully  noticed,  simply  opened 
the  prose  record,  so  that,  with  all  their  merits,  as 
compared  with  the  authors  who  preceded  them, 
they  also  had  those  necessary  imperfections  that 
belong  to  an  initial  era.  Careful  students  of  these 
earlier  efforts  are  more  and  more  inclined  to  ex- 
amine them  in  a  spirit  of  literary  charity,  and, 
yet,  in  the  interests  of  truth,  they  must  rate  them 
at  their  real  worth.  An  examination  of  these  lim- 
itations will  be  of  service  as  proof  in  point  of  the 
Historical  Development  of  English  Prose.  "  The 
history  of  our  earlier  EHzabethan  prose,"  writes 
Saintsbury,  "  if  we  except  the  name  of  Hooker, 
is,  to  a  great  extent,  the  history  of  tentative  and 
imperfect   efforts,    scarcely   resulting   in   any   real, 


The  Development   of  English   Prose        33 

vernacular  style."  He  gives  the  explanation  when 
he  calls  it  the  "  Period  of  Origins."  The  critic 
might,  with  equal  truthfulness,  have  included 
Hooker  also,  and  the  later  Elizabethan  prose.  Ba- 
con and  Jonson  excepted ;  while  these  authors 
themselves  often  put  the  impartial  student  at  his 
wits'  end  to  justify  their  rank  as  standard.  They 
are  standard  only  as  related  to  the  age  of  begin- 
nings in  which  they  lived,  and  not  in  the  light  of 
those  fundamental  laws  of  prose  expression  by 
which  books  and  writers  must  finally  be  judged. 
This  is  especially  true  of  Hooker,  author  of  "  The 
Ecclesiastical  Polity."  What  English  reader  has  been 
so  brave  as  to  read  beyond  the  first  or  second  book 
of  the  five,  or  possibly  eight,  books  that  make  up 
the  total  of  this  corftroversial  treatise?  and  this  not 
by  reason  of  its  polemic  and  partisan  character,  but 
mainly  by  reason  of  its  literary  defects  as  a  speci- 
men of  Modern  English  prose.  In  structure  and 
diction  it  lies  midway  between  English  as  inflected 
and  uninflected,  breaking  away  from  the  old  gram- 
matical forms  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  aiming 
to  assume  independent  function.  It  is^  out  and 
out,  an  Anglo-Latinic  treatise,  so  that  the  mod- 
ern reader  is  obliged  to  note  the  presence,  on 
every  page,  of  words  and  constructions  altogether 


34  General  Discussions 

unallowable  in  the  standard  English  of  to-day. 
It  is  true,  as  Dean  Church  states  it,  that  his  writ- 
ings "  mark  an  epoch  in  the  use  of  the  English 
language,"  but  this  is  only  to  say  that  he  entered 
with  enthusiasm  into  the  new  Elizabethan  move- 
ment, and  not  that  he  escaped  its  errors.  The 
same  remark  is  true,  though  not  so  fully,  of  Ba- 
con, who,  in  order  to  give  a  European  status  to 
his  philosophical  writings,  and  make,  his  books, 
as  he  states  it,  "  citizens  of  the  world,  which  Eng- 
lish books  are  not,"  circulated  them  in  Latin,  the 
universal  language.  In  fact,  the  prose  of  the  time 
was  corrupted  and,  to  that  extent,  un-English,  a 
deliberate  compromise,  based  on  supposed  neces- 
sity, between  the  scholastic  language  of  the  Middle 
Ages  and  the  ever-increasing  demands  of  the  ris- 
ing English.  If  to  this  we  add  the  fact  that 
Euphuism,  the  current  literary  vice  of  the  time, 
more  or  less  affected  the  prose,  we  see  at  once 
that  we  are  dealing  with  an  order  of  prose  which, 
though  beginning  in  the  Golden  Age,  was,  still, 
only  a  beginning,  and  must  be  so  studied.  In  the 
days  of  Elizabeth,  we  look  in  vain  for  a  model 
of  English  prose ;  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  "  Discover- 
ies," making  the  nearest  approximation  thereto. 
Still,   the  historical  development  was   fully  under 


The  Development   of  English   Prose         35 

way.  No  such  prose  as  that  of  Bacon,  Hooker, 
and  Jonson  had,  as  yet,  appeared,  or  could  have 
appeared.  That  there  were  gross  faults  of  vocab- 
ulary, syntax,  and  style  may  be  charged  to  the 
time  and  conditions  under  which  these  authors 
lived,  far  more  than  to  the  authors  themselves, 
who,  even  when  writing  in  Latin  or  in  Latinic 
phrase,  were  intensely  English  in  spirit  and  in 
aim,  and  did  what  they  could  to  establish  the 
prose  on  an  enduring  basis. 

SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY    PROSE     (1650-1700) 

Between  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  Second  and  the  opening  of  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne,  in  1702,  we  have  the  latter  half  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  and  the  more  important,  lying, 
as  it  does,  midway  between  the  Elizabethan  and 
the  Augustan  Era.  Short  as  the  period  is,  it  marks 
a  very  suggestive  stage  in  English  Prose  Devel- 
opment, in  that  it  includes  two  widely  different, 
and  yet  essential,  expressions  of  that  development, 
represented,  respectively,  in  the  person  of  Milton 
and  of  Dryden,  whose  death  in  1700  marks  the 
chronological  as  well  as  the  literary  close  of  the 
epoch.  The  first  expression  of  this  development 
is  seen  in  the  short  period  of  the  Commonwealth 


36  General  Discussions 

(1649-60),  in  the  rise  and  dominance  of  Puritan 
prose,  as  chiefly  embodied  in  the  vigorous  pages 
of  Milton,  and  also  manifested,  in  more  or  less 
impressive  form,  in  Jeremy  Taylor,  the  divine;  in 
Thomas  Hobbes,  the  philosopher;  in  Sir  Thomas 
Browne,  the  antiquarian ;  and  in  Izaak  Walton, 
the  cheerful  and  contemplative  author  of  "  The 
Complete  Angler."  Puritan  prose,  as  the  Puritan 
character,  has  received  its  due  share  of  censure  at 
the  hands  of  English  and  foreign  critics,  and  is 
coming,  more  and  more,  to  its  due  share  of  praise ; 
the  frequent  expressions  of  each  of  these  phases 
of  criticism  making  it  incumbent  on  every  student 
of  English  to  examine  the  record  for  himself  and 
reach  his  own  conclusions.  This  much,  however, 
must  be  conceded,  and  this  is  all  that  is  necessary 
for  our  present  purpose,  —  that  the  prose  of  Mil- 
ton and  his  contemporaries  marks  an  important 
stage  in  English  Prose  Development,  and  reveals 
a  new  phase  of  the  English  mind  as  expressed  in 
literature.  There  is  an  order  of  prose  which,  for 
need  of  a  better  term,  we  call  "  Forensic,"  a  kind 
of  political  prose,  by  which  great  civic  questions 
are  discussed  with  civic  vigor,  and  authors  assume 
a  more  pronounced  and  fearless  attitude  than  at 
other  times  and  with  other  aims  in  view.     It  was 


The  Development   of  English   Prose         37 

thus  with  Milton  and  Hobbes,  and  even  with 
Browne  and  Bunyan,  in  their  trenchant,  virile  way 
of  stating  truth.  The  incisive  diction  of  "  The 
Holy  War  "  is  Puritan  prose  at  its  best,  and  in 
forensic  form,  only  within  the  sphere  of  the  dis- 
tinctively religious.  The  author  of  "  The  Com- 
plete Angler  "  was  the  only  one  of  these  writers 
who  wrote  in  a  more  subdued  manner. 

The  second  of  these  expressions  is  found  in  the 
prose  of  the  Restoration  and  the  English  Revo- 
lution, as  these  great  historic  movements  stand  re- 
lated, politically  and  logically,  in  which  literary 
movement  John  Dryden  stands  out  as  the  most 
conspicuous  figure.  Such  other  names  as  Tillot- 
son,  South,  and  Barrow,  in  Divinity;  Cudworth 
and  Locke,  in  Philosophy;  Burnet,  in  Ecclesiastical 
History;  Sidney,  in  Political  History;  Collier,  in 
Dramatic  Criticism ;  and  Temple,  in  Miscellany, 
added  luster  to  the  era.  The  fact  that  Bunyan 
wrote  his  spiritual  treatises  amid  the  excesses  of 
the  Restoration  is  as  anomalous  to  the  student  as 
that  Milton  penned  his  epics  on  God  and  man  in 
the  same  unfriendly  period.  It  is  at  this  epoch 
that  Gallic  influence  came  in  upon  English  prose 
and  verse  with  unwonted  force,  though  not  alto- 
gether with  harmful  result.     "  The   Restoration," 


38  General  Discussions 

says  Saintsbury,  "  introduced  the  study  and  com- 
parison of  a  language  which,  though  still  alien 
from  English,  was  far  less  removed  from  it  than 
the  other  Romance  tongues."  Even  to  the  de- 
gree in  which  French  was  working  injury,  such 
an  evil  influence  was  less  and  less  observable  as 
the  history  developed  on  toward  the  time  of 
William  of  Orange  and  the  Great  Rebellion,  in 
that  the  Rebellion  freed  English  society,  the  Eng- 
lish church  and  state  and  literature  and  speech, 
from  the  dominance  of  the  Romanism  and  the 
Gallicism  of  the  Stuart  Dynasty. 

Of  the  epochal  and  beneficent  work  of  Dryden 
in  this  gradational  movement  of  English  prose 
toward  a  better  type,  scarcely  too  much  can  be 
said.  It  was  under  Dryden's  influence  that  prose 
in  general,  and  prose  criticism  in  special,  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  rose  to  their  maximum.  He 
was  the  Doctor  Johnson  of  his  era,  the  Bacon  and 
Hooker  of  his  age.  "At  no  time  that  I  can  think 
of,"  writes  an  English  critic,  "  was  there  any  Eng- 
lishman who,  for  a  considerable  period,  was  so 
far  in  advance  of  his  contemporaries  in  almost 
every  branch  of  literary  work  as  Dryden  was  in 
the  last  twenty  years  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
The    eighteen    volumes    of    his    works    contain    a 


The  Development   of  English   Prose         39 

faithful  representation  of  the  whole  literary  move- 
ment in  England  for  the  best  part  of  half  a  cen- 
tury, and  indicate  the  direction  of  almost  the 
whole  literary  movement  for  nearly  a  century 
more."  This  strong  language,  applied  to  Dry- 
den's  entire  work  in  prose  and  verse,  is  especially 
applicable  to  his  prose;  his  specific  impress  upon 
literature  being  best  understood  when  we  reflect 
what  English  prose  would  have  been  at  the  close 
of  the  era  had  not  Dryden  appeared.  We  are  not 
now  dealing  with  the  special  department  of  Eng- 
lish Prose  Criticism,  but  the  name  of  Dryden  sug- 
gests the  fact  that  his  best  prose  work  lay  in  this 
direction,  and  that  his  merit  therein  is  so  pro- 
nounced that  the  appellation  given  him,  at  times, 
the  "  Father  of  Modern  English  Criticism,"  is 
not  undeserved.  In  his  "  Critical  Prefaces,"  we 
have  the  first  extant  specimens  of  genuine  literary 
criticism  in  the  sphere  of  prose,  while  his  cele- 
brated "  Essay  on  Dramatic  Poesy "  evinced  the 
fact  that  he  was  fully  qualified  to  apply  these 
principles  to  verse  and  within  the  special  province 
of  the  drama. 

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY    PROSE 

The  death  of  Dryden,  in  1700,  and  the  opening 


40  General  Discussions 

of  the  eighteenth  century  mark  another  era  in  the 
historico-Hterary  sequence  we  are  studying.  Now, 
for  the  first  time,  it  may  be  said  with  critical  ex- 
actness that  we  have  come  to  a  period  of  fully 
perfected  English  prose,  when  it  assumed  a  form 
and  quality  from  which  there  has  been  no  ma- 
terial deviation,  and  which  justly  entitles  it  to  the 
name  of  standard  prose.  It  has  been  justly  called 
in  this  respect  "  the  schoolmaster  of  all  periods 
to  follow,"  settling,  once  for  all,  what  our  prose 
was,  and  indicating  as  well  to  what  it  might  attain 
in  the  centuries  following.  This  is  not  to  say  that, 
in  the  prose  of  the  Augustan  and  the  Early  Geor- 
gian Age,  there  were  not  serious  defects  and  in- 
fringements of  literary  law,  but  that  these  had 
now  been  reduced  to  a  minimum ;  that  the  vernac- 
ular English  was  more  and  more  fully  asserting 
itself,  and  that,  when  the  century  closed,  in  the 
reign  of  George  III.,  English  prose  could  be  fa- 
vorably compared  with  that  of  any  Continental 
tongue. 

Some  of  the  special  phases  of  this  period  may  be 
noted.  First  of  all,  it  is  evident  that  Augustan  and 
Early  Georgian  literature  is  especially  a  prose 
type;  differing,  in  this  respect,  from  that  of  the 
Age  of  Elizabeth,  and  more  in  keeping  with  that 


The  Development   of  English   Prose         41 

of  the  antecedent  reign  of  the  Stuarts;  thus  pre- 
paring the  way,  moreover,  for  that  copious  ex- 
pression of  prose  marking  the  subsequent  era. 

A  further  feature  is  seen  in  the  ever-increasing 
emphasis  of  the  Vernacular  over  all  competing  in- 
fluences, classical  and  Continental.  In  so  far  as  this 
classical  influence  was  concerned,  it  was  as  fully 
embodied  in  the  prose  of  Johnson,  in  the  so-called 
Johnsonese  of  the  time,  as  in  any  other  one  writer. 
Yet,  no  careful  observer  of  the  trend  of  modern 
literary  judgment  can  fail  to  note  that  the  Latinic 
element  in  Johnsonian  English  is  not  as  pro- 
nounced as  has  been  asserted,  and  that,  even  when 
present,  is  not  so  injurious  in  its  effect  as  preju- 
diced opinion  has  made  it  to  be;  less  so,  indeed, 
than  in  the  pages  of  Bacon  and  Hooker.  No 
less  an  authority  than  Johnson's  loyal  biographer, 
Hill,  has  come  to  his  defense  at  this  very  issue. 
Conceding,  to  some  extent,  his  alleged  "  pomp  of 
diction,"  he  justifies  it,  in  part,  on  the  ground, 
that  with  the  author  of  "  The  Rambler "  at  the 
time,  and  with  his  special  ends  in  view,  he  could 
conscientiously  have  adopted  no  other  type,  in 
that  he  came  before  the  age  and  the  world  as  ''  a 
majestic  teacher  of  moral  and  religious  wisdom." 
"  To  a  writer  who  is  full  of  the  greatness  of  such 


42  General  Discussions 

a  vocation,"  says  Hill,  "  as  Johnson  undoubtedly 
was,  a  certain  stateliness  of  language  is  natural, 
and,  if  well  conducted,  tends  to  win  the  confidence 
and  interest  of  the  reader." 

The  Continental  influence  was  Gallic,  as  embod- 
ied chiefly  in  the  writings  of  Gibbon,  the  histor- 
ian, who  had  as  much  occasion  for  his  GalHcisms 
as  Johnson  for  his  Latinisms,  in  that  he  was  an 
accomplished  French  scholar;  published  his  first 
book  in  French,  and  lived  for  years  under  a 
French  environment,  at  Lausanne.  Despite  all 
this,  however,  it  is  of  Gibbon  that  Saintsbury 
writes,  "  We  shall  never  have  a  greater  historian 
in  style  as  well  as  in  matter."  Be  this  as  it  may, 
suffice  it  to  state,  that,  in  the  face  of  all  Latinic 
and  Gallic  influence,  English  prose  gradually 
worked  its  way  along  from  point  to  point  away 
from  classical  and  Continental  traditions,  away 
from  Euphuism  and  other  false  ideals,  toward  a 
form  and  function  fundamentally  English  and 
modern. 

An  additional  feature  of  this  prose  is  seen  in 
the  fact  that  it  marked  the  substantial  beginning 
of  no  less  than  three  representative  types  of  prose, 
—  a  feature  enough  in  itself  to  prove  the  fact  of 


The  Development   of  English   Prose        43 

historical  evolution,  and  enough,  as  well,  to  estab- 
lish the  literary  repute  of  the  age. 

It  is  in  this  era  that  Journalistic  English  may 
be  said  to  have  taken  historic  form  in  the  writ- 
ings of  Defoe.  It  is  of  the  journalists  L'Estrange 
and  Defoe  that  a  modern  critic  is  speaking,  as  he 
calls  them  "  the  flag-bearers  "  of  the  new  move- 
ment toward  a  more  popular  every-day  English, 
as  expressed  in  the  pamphlets  and  brief  periodic- 
als of  the  day.  Though  to  L'Estrange,  as  the 
earlier  writer,  belongs  the  praise  of  being  "  the 
first  representative  name  in  the  annals  of  jour- 
nalism," the  work  and  influence  of  Defoe  was  so 
much  more  vital  and  effective,  that  the  real  begin- 
ning of  journalistic  English  may  be  said  to  be 
found  in  him.  Journalistic  prose  had  its  errors 
then,  as  it  has  them  now,  —  errors  of  diction, 
structure,  and  general  style,  often  due  to  super- 
ficial thinking,  inordinate  haste  of  preparation, 
and  the  imperative  demands  of  the  waiting  press, 
—  but  the  faults  were  less  prominent  than  the 
benefits ;  so  that  it  must  be  conceded  that  Modern 
Popular  English  owes  an  invaluable  debt  to  the 
author  of  "  Robinson  Crusoe."  In  fact,  the  great 
development  of  the  time  in  the  English  Essay 
under  Addison  and  Steele  was  but  another  name 


44  General  Discussions 

for  Journalistic  English,  the  famous  Letters  of 
Junius  by  Sir  Philip  Francis  being  still  another 
expression  of  the  tendency  of  the  time  to  break 
away  from  all  forms  of  classicism,  and  express 
its  thought  in  the  homely  language  of  the  com- 
mon folk.  The  Tatler  and  The  Idler,  and  even 
the  political  pamphlets  of  the  era,  such  as  The 
Guardian  and  The  Freeholder,  were  newspaper 
English  in.  the  form  of  descriptive  miscellany,  the 
real  beginnings  in  English  prose  of  the  modern 
periodical  and  editorial.  The  current  phrase  "  a 
Spectator  paper "  is  itself  a  confirmation  of  this 
union  of  literature  proper  and  journalism.  A 
hasty  comparison  of  one  of  these  weeklies  or 
dailies  with  an  essay  of  Bacon  carefully  elabor- 
ated will  confirm  the  popular  character  of  the 
former.  Essays  had  existed  before  Queen  Anne. 
The  journalistic  essay  had  no  antecedent  history. 
It  was  a  product  of  the  period.  So  as  to  the 
English  Novel  in  its  historic  relation  to  other 
forms  of  English  prose,  dating  its  real  beginning 
in  the  days  of  Defoe  and  Fielding,  even  though,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  Essay,  a  kind  of  fiction  existed  as 
far  back  as  the  days  of  Sidney  and  Malory.  For  the 
first  time,  however,  the  English  novel  gained  and 
held  historic  place  as  a  permanent  form  of  Eng- 


The  Development  of  English   Prose        45 

lish  prose  which  Sterne,  Walpole,  and  Goldsmith 
developed  in  ever-multiplied  forms. 

These  were  the  prose  forms  whose  beginnings 
date  from  the  period  in  question,  while  all  other 
prose  forms  already  established  were  enriched  and 
strengthened  by  the  writers  of  the  time,  —  The- 
ology, by  Butler  and  Warburton ;  Philosophy,  by 
Hartley,  Reid,  and  Berkeley;  Political  Science,  by 
Smith  and  Bentham ;  and  Literary  Criticism,  by 
Burke  and  Alison.  In  fine,  English  Prose,  if  we 
may  so  express  it,  was  on  its  feet  and  full  of  age, 
having  passed  its  novitiate  into  its  majority,  brook- 
ing no  rival  and  ever  aspiring  toward  better 
things.  It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  when  we 
cross  the  threshold  and  pass  over  into  the  follow- 
ing century,  at  the  close  of  the  Georgian  Era,  we 
pass  from  prose  to  prose  and  to  ever-higher  ex- 
pressions of  it  as  the  opening  years  of  the  twen- 
tieth century  are  at  hand. 

NINETEENTH-CENTURY     PROSE 

Of  nineteenth-century  English  prose,  it  is  suf- 
ficient to  say,  that  it  records  the  high-water  mark 
of  our  prose  development,  fairly  contests  the 
ground  for  supremacy  with  the  development  of 
English  poetry,  and  reveals  an  order  and  a  meas- 


V/ 


46  General  Discussions 

ure  of  excellence  of  which  every  English-speaking 
student  may  be  justly  proud. 

Here  and  there,  as  the  new  century  advances, 
it  may  change  its  phases  to  suit  the  prevailing 
temper  of  the  time,  and  in  order  to  be  strictly 
representative,  progressive  enough  to  break  away 
in  part  from  all  antecedent  conditions,  and,  yet, 
conservative  enough  to  be  true  to  all  those  fun- 
damental principles  of  prose  expression  which  be- 
long to  every  age  and  every  standard  author. 

What  a  list  of  worthies  it  is  as  we  cite  it !  In 
Historic  Prose,  Grote,  Hallam,  Mill,  Buckle,  Ali- 
son, Green,  and  Froude;  in  Fiction,  Thackeray, 
Reade,  Bulwer,  Dickens,  Disraeli,  Charlotte  Bronte, 
and  George  Eliot;  in  Philosophic  Prose,  Whately, 
Chillingworth,  Bentley  and  Cudworth;  in  Forensic 
Prose,  Burke  and  Pitt  and  O'Connor;  and  in 
Miscellany,  Sydney  Smith,  Landor,  Thomas  Ar- 
nold and  Matthew  Arnold,  Christopher  North  and 
the  Edinburgh  Reviewers,  until  we  wonder  where 
we  can  find  the  dividing-line  between  the  first  and 
second  orders  —  what  there  is  in  English  heredity 
and  environment  to  beget  so  splendid  a  breed  of 
authors  in  prose,  for  a  parallel  of  which  we  look 
in  vain  in  any  modern  European  literature. 

Such  is  the  principle  of  development  applied  to 


The  Development   of  English   Prose        47 

prose  literature.  Hence,  a  vital  question  emerges, 
whether  Contemporary  English  Prose  is  main- 
taining its  historic  place;  in  answer  to  which  we 
may  say,  that  the  expansion  is  still  visible.  In 
History,  we  have  Freeman  and  McCarthy  and 
Lecky;  in  Fiction,  Macdonald  and  James  and 
Mrs.  Ward;  in  Miscellany,  Mahaffy  and  Minto 
and  Morley  and  Dowden  and  Saintsbury  and  an 
ever-widening  list.  Especially  in  historical  and 
literary  criticism,  there  is  a  generation  of  authors 
rising  to  mastery,  as  yet  in  the  prime  of  their 
middle  manhood,  and  producing  an  order  of  prose 
favorably  comparing  with  the  best  products  of 
the  past.  Despite  all  imperfections,  English  Prose 
has  never  been  in  safer  hands  than  it  is  at  pres- 
ent, nor  is  there  anything  like  it  on  the  Continent 
of  Europe.  Clearer  than  the  German,  and  more 
vigorous  than  the  French,  and  far  more  copious 
than  either,  it  is  clearly  within  the  limits  of  truth 
to  say,  that  no  more  fitting  medium  has  as  yet 
been  found  for  the  expression  of  thought  and 
taste. 


Ill 

THE  HISTORY  OF  ENGLISH  LYRIC  VERSE 

Before  taking  up  the  special  study  of  the  Lyric 
as  expressed  in  EngHsh  verse,  it  will  conduce  to 
clearness  to  note  very  briefly  the  Origin  and  Gen- 
eral Characteristics  of  Lyric  Verse,  and  the  va- 
rious forms  which  it  has  assumed  in  our  literary 
history. 

Lyric  Verse,  as  the  name  implies,  was  verse 
originally  sung  to  the  lyre,  when  bards  and  min- 
strels sang  and  played  the  songs  which  they  had 
composed.  The  oldest  type  of  standard  verse,  as, 
also,  the  most  natural,  spontaneous,  ^nd  simple, 
it  claims,  in  this  respect,  a  kind  of  priority  over 
all  competing  forms.  Though  not  especially  illus- 
trating some  of  the  qualities  of  the  epic,  such  as 
moral  sublimity  and  vastness  of  outlook,  nor  some 
of  the  qualities  of  the  dramatic,  such  as  tragic  in- 
tensity and  general  scenic  effect,  it  possesses  fea- 
tures of  a  high  order  peculiarly  its  own,  and  it 
embraces  an  area  of  literary  and  emotional  move- 
ment not  so  fully  covered  by  any  other  poetical 
forms. 

48 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  49 

ORIGIN    OF    LYRIC   VERSE 

Its  origin  may  be  said  to  lie  within  the  human 
heart  itself,  its  common  and  special  experiences, 
its  expressible  and  inexpressible  emotional  life, 
so  that  it  would  not  be  aside  from  the  truth  to 
define  Lyric  Verse,  as  the  Metrical  Expression 
of  Human  Feeling,  the  Metrical  Expression  of 
Thought  through  the  Emotions  as  a  Medium. 

SOME    OF    ITS    CHARACTERISTICS 

1.  It  is  an  eminently  subjective  type  of  verse, 
as  distinct  from  epic  and  dramatic,  expressing  the 
innermost  sensibilities  of  the  poet  himself.  In- 
stead of  following  the  plan  of  the  epoist  as  a 
narrator  of  events,  or  that  of  the  dramatist  in 
representing  the  thoughts  and  experiences  of  oth- 
ers, the  lyric  records  the  ever-changing  life  of 
the  lyrist  himself  as  a  man,  both  in  his  individual 
character  and  in  his  relation  to  the  nation  or  the 
race. 

The  lyric  is  the  interpreter  of  the  world  within, 
its  desires  and  hopes  and  fears  and  loves  and 
hates.  Lyric  verse  is  thus  essentially  realistic,  as 
the  drama  from  its  imitative  character  cannot  be, 
and  the  epic  from  its  historic  and  descriptive  char- 
acter cannot  be,  —  a  form  of  verse  in  which  the 


50  General  Discussions 

author  can  never  act  by  deputy,  but  only  in  the 
way  of  a  heart-to-heart  interview,  immediate  and 
personal.  Hence,  its  unwonted  vitality  and  cur- 
rency; so  that  what  is  popularly  called  literature 
and  life,  nowhere  finds  a  more  fitting  example.  It 
is  literature  in  living  forms. 

2.  The  lyric  may  be  said  to  exhibit  the  possi- 
ble and  actual  union  of  the  subjective  and  ob- 
jective, so  that  emotion  shall  never  become  an 
end  in  itself,  but  terminate,  at  length,  on  some 
external  and  worthy  object,  which  object,  indeed, 
has  furnished  the  occasion  for  its  expression. 
Thus  it  is  in  the  lyrics  of  friendship  and  patriot- 
ism and  religion,  —  in  those  Lyrics  of  the  Hearth- 
side,  as  Dunbar  calls  them,  —  where  the  outward 
object  elicits  the  inward  feeling,  and  determines 
the  measure  and  character  of  its  utterance.  No 
sentiment  that  begins  and  ends  in  itself  can  be 
real  and  normal,  its  healthy  character  always  be- 
ing confirmed  by  the  fact  that  it  always  seeks 
and  finds  an  object  external  to  itself. 

3.  The  comprehensiveness  of  the  lyric  is  an- 
other of  its  notable  features,  wider  in  its  range 
than  the  epic  or  dramatic,  and  expressing  in  one 
or  another  of  its  forms  every  experience  possible 
to  man,  and  reaching  out,  at  length,  beyond  the 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  51 

finite  and  human  into  the  region  of  the  infinite. 
That  lyric  cry  of  which  the  poets  speak  comes 
from  the  deepest  depths,  and  reaches  to  the  high- 
est heights.  It  is  this  breadth  of  area  that  is  one 
of  the  most  engaging  elements  of  lyrical  study, 
ever  inviting  the  student  to  new  investigations  and 
ever  rewarding  him  with  wider  vision. 

4.  As  an  additional  feature,  it  may  be  noted, 
that  the  structure  of  the  lyric,  the  sonnet  apart,  is 
without  limitation,  while  as  to  the  sonnet  itself, 
though  the  number  of  the  lines  cannot  vary,  the 
variety  of  the  rhyme,  as  in  Milton,  Shakespeare, 
and  Byron,  may  be  such  as  to  allow  the  poet  the 
fullest  individual  freedom. 

THE   FORMS    OF   THE   LYRIC 

In  the  light  of  what  we  have  found  to  be  true 
as  to  the  scope  of  the  lyric,  it  would  be  just  to 
say,  that  the  external  poetic  form  which  the  lyric 
may  assume  may  be  as  varied  as  human  feeling 
itself,  there  being  no  emotion  known  to  the  hu- 
man heart  which  could  not  embody  itself,  and 
has  not  embodied  itself,  in  some  idyllic  struct- 
ure. More  specifically,  however,  convenient  classi- 
fications may  be  adopted,  as  emphasizing  this  or 
that  particular   feature.     Hence,   we  have  Sacred 


52  General  Discussions 

and  Secular  Lyrics,  —  the  Sacred  including  the 
Scriptural  or  Biblical,  the  Religious  and  the 
Moral,  as  illustrated,  respectively,  in  Hebrew 
verse,  in  the  hymns  of  the  church,  and  in  such 
ethical  poems  as  Spenser's  "  Heavenly  Love  "  and 
"  Heavenly  Beauty."  Under  the  Secular,  would 
fall  all  other  species,  —  the  Pastoral,  as  Spenser's 
"  Shepherd's  Calendar  " ;  the  Elegiac,  as  Arnold's 
"  Thyrsis " ;  the  Humorous,  as  Burns's  "  Jolly 
Beggars  " ;  the  National,  as  the  Patriotic  Sonnets 
of  Milton;  the  Amatory,  as  the  Love  Songs  of 
Moore ;  the  Descriptive,  as  Shelley's  "  Ode  to  the 
Skylark " ;  the  Convivial,  as  the  songs  of  Burns, 
and  all  those  specimens  that  come  under  the  cap- 
tion of  Ballads,  as  found  in  Thackeray  and  Ten- 
nyson, in  many  of  which  the  border-line  between 
the  epic  and  the  lyric  is  almost  too  dim  for  dis- 
cernment, so  that  the  phrase  "  an  epical  lyric  "  or 
**  a  lyrical  epic  "  is  not  without  justification.  In 
"  Comus,"  we  have  a  dramatic  lyric.  Further 
still,  if  necessary,  all  lyrics  might  be  reduced  to 
the  class  of  Odes,  the  fact  that  they  were  origi- 
nally set  to  music  and  sung  to  the  lyre  not  being 
so  strictly  applicable  in  the  freer  classification  of 
later  criticism. 

There  is  a  twofold  division  of  the  lyric,  how- 


History  of  English  Lyric  Verse  53 

ever,  which  is  inclusive  of  all  existing  forms  and 
a  practical  division  for  the  student  of  verse. 

These  are  Demonstrative  and  Reflective  lyrics, 
the  feeling  in  the  first  being  expressed  in  pro- 
nounced and  positive  form,  and,  in  the  second,  in 
a  subdued  and  modified  form.  Hence,  all  Na- 
tional and  Humorous  lyrics  w^ould  be  of  the  dem- 
onstrative type,  as  the  Elegiac  and  Pastoral  would 
be  of  the  reflective  type,  some  of  the  most  notable 
lyrics  being  marked  by  the  practical  union  and 
fusion  of  the  two  forms. 

The  second  of  these  forms,  the  Reflective  Lyric, 
is  now  especially  prominent  in  literary  criticism, 
—  just  what  it  is,  and  what  its  province,  and  just 
to  what  degree  a  song  or  an  ode  may  be  reflective 
and  yet  preserve  its  genuine  emotional  character. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  only  condition  is  that  the 
feeling  shall  always  control  the  thought,  that  the 
poem  shall  never  pass  over  to  the  domain  of  the 
didactic.  Thus  interpreted,  these  contemplative 
lyrics  are  found  to  constitute  an  important  part 
of  modern  idyllic  verse;  genuine  emotion,  in  its 
depth  and  tenderness,  being  so  often  beyond  a 
full  expression.  The  expression,  at  the  most, 
must  be  subdued,   restrained,   and  temperate. 


54  General  Discussions 

THE    HISTORY   OF   THE    ENGLISH    LYRIC 

This  we  are  now  prepared  to  study  intelligently. 
At  the  outset,  we  mark  the  suggestive  fact  that 
this  development  has  been  mainly  in  keeping  with 
the  general  development  of  English  poetry  and,  in 
fact,  with  that  of  English  letters.  Hence,  in  the 
first  expressions  of  our  poetic  and  literary  life, 
we  find  what  we  might  expect  to  find,  the  simplest 
forms  of  lyric  expression  in  ode  and  song,  and 
no  such  elaborate  examples  as  later  Georgian  or 
Victorian  days  reveal.  To  look  for  Wordsworth's 
great  ode  or  Tennyson's  great  elegy  before  the 
days  of  Milton  would  be  out  of  keeping  with  all 
historico-literary  conditions. 

In  tracing  thus  the  history  of  English  Lyric,  we 
may  inquire,  first  of  all,  as  to  its  pre-Elizabethan 
expression  in  its  twofold  period  of  Old  and  Mid- 
dle English.  Inasmuch  as  the  lyric  is  the  oldest 
and  most  natural  expression  of  a  nation's  literary 
life,  we  might  rightfully  expect  to  find  some  sub- 
stantive examples  of  it  in  these  earlier  eras,  even 
though  embodied  in  the  cruder  forms  consonant 
to  a  primitive  age.  This  expectation  is  in  part 
realized,  and  would  have  been  much  more  fully 
so  had  not  the  political  conditions  of  the  people 
and  their  bitter  struggle  for  a  national  life  been 


History  of  English  Lyric  Verse  55 

so  intense  as  often  to  make  impossible  any  form 
of  literary  work. 

Thus  we  have  the  Hymns  and  Metrical  Homi- 
lies of  the  Old  English  period,  its  Odes  and  Son- 
nets, so  often  expressed  on  the  reflective  side, 
as  occasioned  by  the  strenuous  life  of  the  age. 
Hence,  we  have  such  examples  as  "  The  Lament 
of  Deor "  and  "  The  Traveller's  Song,"  "  The 
Metres  of  Boethius,"  "  The  Death  of  Byrthnoth," 
"  The  Battle  of  Brunanburh,"  and  the  various  le- 
gends of  saints  and  heroes,  in  which  the  epic  and 
the  lyric  about  equally  divide  the  poetry,  there  be- 
ing in  all  the  verse  a  note  of  seriousness  so  dis- 
tinct and  prolonged  as  to  set  its  seal  upon  the 
literature  at  large. 

After  the  Conquest,  in  the  Middle  English  Era, 
the  lyric  assumes  a  freer  form,  as,  here  and  there, 
it  betokens  the  coming  of  a  better  day.  Here  we 
find  the  martial  songs  of  Minot,  and  Occleve's  "La- 
ment for  Chaucer,"  and  numerous  odes  and  ballads 
from  anonymous  authors,  symbolic  of  a  distinct  idjd- 
lic  movement  presaging  the  Revival  of  Learning. 
Here  the  name  of  Chaucer  is  prominent.  Just  in 
what  sense  Chaucer  may  be  called  a  lyric  poet 
is  still  a  debatable  question;  the  broader  term 
"  descriptive  "  being  generally  applied  as  the  best 


56  General  Discussions 

adapted  to  the  special  characteristics  of  his  verse. 
An  epic  poet  certainly  he  is  not,  nor  in  any  valid 
sense  dramatic,  save,  as  in  ''  The  Canterbury 
Tales,"  we  note  a  collection  of  characters  portrayed 
with  something  like  scenic  effect. 

Hence,  the  verse  is  either  descriptive  or  lyric ;  the 
drift  of  criticism  being  in  the  direction  of  giving 
Chaucer  credit  for  a  measure  of  lyric  skill  hitherto 
denied  to  him,  or,  at  least,  combining  the  two  types 
of  verse,  the  lyric  and  the  descriptive,  so  as  not  un- 
duly to  emphasize  either  form.  In  "  The  Canterbury 
Tales,"  we  note  a  distinctive  lyric  element,  on  the 
basis  of  which  the  criticism  has  been  ventured 
that  Chaucer  may  be  called  "  our  first  English 
lyrist."  It  is  in  his  shorter  poems,  however,  that 
the  claims  to  this  distinction  must  be  found;  their 
very  brevity  conducing  to  lyric  form,  and  offer- 
ing the  poet  an  opportunity  for  the  expression  of 
varied  feeling.  Such  poems  as  "  The  Former 
Age,"  "  Truth,"  "  Gentilnesse,"  and  "  Lak  of  Sted- 
fastnesse "  are  of  this  lyric  order,  while  even 
so  long  a  poem  as  "  The  Book  of  the  Duchesse," 
written  as  a  lament  on  the  death  of  Blanche,  may 
be  regarded  as  a  lyric  of  the  elegiac  order.  What- 
ever these  poems  may  or  may  not  be,  as  descriptive, 
they   are  more  lyrical  than  aught  else,  and  serve 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  57 

to  allow  the  critic  to  include  the  name  of  Chaucer 
in  the  roll  of  English  lyrists,  as  indeed  the  first 
in  time. 

As  we  approach  the  Modern  Era,  we  note  the 
opening  of  a  lyrical  epoch  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  and  in  the  verse  of  Wyatt  and  Sur- 
rey. It  is  the  Era  of  Preparation,  opening  the 
way  for  those  later  lyric  developments  that  have 
made  our  literature  so  notable.  The  sonnet  now 
appears  for  the  first  time,  through  the  special 
agency  of  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey,  which  is 
enough  in  itself  to  give  to  the  period  substantive 
lyric  repute,  and  insure  a  still  further  expression 
of  it  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth.  It  is  a  fact  of  in- 
terest that,  at  the  very  dawn  of  the  Revival  of 
Learning  and  of  Poetry  in  England,  much  of  the 
innermost  spirit  of  the  revival  is  revealed  in  the 
line  of  lyric  verse  as  best  expressing  the  essential 
character  of  that  new  and  broader  life  which  as 
early  as  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Seventh  began 
to  manifest  its  presence.  In  Modern  English 
Poetry  proper,  there  are  several  distinctive  Lyr- 
ical Periods,  —  the  Elizabethan,  Stuart,  Augus- 
tan, Later  Georgian,  and  Victorian.  It  is,  indeed, 
this  special  lyrical  impulse,  coming  from  Italy 
into  England,  that  introduced  so  auspiciously  the 


58  General  Discussions 

Age    of    Elizabeth    and    insured    its    high    poetic 
type. 

The  Elizabethan  lyrics.  We  notice  in  the  Golden 
Age,  an  age  of  impulse  and  awakening,  the  coin- 
cident expression  of  lyric  and  dramatic  verse,  and 
often  so  related  and  fused  that  there  is  no  better 
name  for  much  of  Elizabethan  poetry  than  the 
lyrico-dramatic,  as  seen  in  those  "  old  melodious 
lays  "  of  which  the  American  poet  Whittier  writes. 
In  fact,  the  lyric  movement  was  now  fully  under 
way,  and  no  form  of  verse  could  be  produced 
which  was  not  affected  by  it.  If  Spenser  penned 
an  epic  and  the  dramatists  wrote  plays,  so  clear 
and  full  was  the  lyric  note  in  it  all  that  the  dullest 
ear  could  hear  it;  a  remarkable  feature  of  the 
period  being  that  the  lyrical  spirit  was  so  pro- 
nounced that  no  poet  of  any  standing  failed  to 
evince  it.  Hence,  the  various  collections  of  Songs 
and  Sonnets  that  have  been  gathered  out  of  the 
province  of  Elizabethan  verse,  some  of  the  choicest 
of  them  coming  from  the  secondary  poets  of  the 
time,  whose  only  claim  to  recognition  lay  in  the 
fact  that  they  caught  the  prevailing  lyric  impulse, 
and  to  the  full  measure  of  their  ability  reproduced 
and  diffused  it.  It  was  so  with  Lodge  and  Greene 
and  Briton  and  Daniel  and  Sidney  and  Donne  and 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  59 

Browne  and  Barnes  and  Drummond  and  numer- 
ous others,  playwrights  and  sonneteers,  who  felt 
that  a  new  poetic  era  had  dawned,  and  that  it 
called  for  a  distinctly  dramatic  and  emotional  or- 
der of  verse.  Hence,  Spenser  penned  his  sonnets 
and  his  shorter  idyllic  poems  to  give  this  impulse 
full  expression,  as  seen  in  his  "  Shepherd's  Cal- 
endar," his  "  Complaints,"  and  his  spousal  and 
bridal  songs. 

So  Shakespeare,  as  a  matter  of  course,  embod- 
ied a  portion  of  his  capacious  power  in  lyric,  as 
seen  in  all  his  non-dramatic  poems,  such  as  "  Ve- 
nus and  Adonis,"  as,  also,  through  and  through 
the  texture  of  his  dramas,  and,  most  especially,  in 
that  remarkable  series  of  sonnets  on  the  basis  of 
which  he  is  entitled  to  rank  as  the  leading  lyrist 
as  well  as  dramatist  of  his  time. 

It  is  this  exquisite  "  lyrism,"  as  the  critics  call 
it,  which  furnishes  still  another  proof  of  the  po- 
etic wealth  and  scope  of  that  remarkable  man 
whom  we  know  as  Shakespeare,  whose  command- 
ing genius  seems  to  assume  increasing  area  and 
potency  as  the  centuries  come  and  go. 

The  Stuart  and  Augustan  eras,  dating  from 
1603  to  1727,  mark  an  interval  of  a  century  and 
a  quarter  of  varied  literary  feature,  but  mainly  of 


60  General  Discussions 

a  non-lyrical  type.  The  notable  work  of  Milton, 
in  the  troublous  days  of  the  Stuarts,  serves  to 
mark  by  contrast  the  otherwise  general  lyric  de- 
cline, such  secondary  poets  as  Herbert  and  Wi- 
ther and  Donne  and  Carew  and  Prior  and  Gay 
and  Davenant  aiming  to  preserve  a  kind  of  lyric 
sequence  in  English  letters. 

Of  Milton's  lyrics  suffice  it  to  say,  that,  isolated 
as  they  were  in  the  center  of  the  general  lyrical 
destitution  of  the  time,  nothing  like  them  had 
as  yet  appeared.  They  serve  to  preserve  the  lyric 
history,  and  also  prove  that  such  an  order  of  verse 
might  appear  under  the  most  unfriendly  condi- 
tions. It  was  thus  that  Milton,  the  last  of  the 
Elizabethans  and  the  herald  of  the  Georgians, 
stood  midway  between  the  two  great  lyrical  eras, 
looking  before  and  after. 

No  English  poet  ever  appeared  more  oppor- 
tunely both  for  the  interests  of  poetry  and  those 
of  general  letters,  nor  is  it  at  all  difficult  to  see 
that,  had  he  not  appeared  when  he  did  and.  with 
the  genius  he  had,  the  rise  of  the  Romantic  Era 
in  English  verse  might  have  been  deferred  for 
half  a  century,  and  Victorian  poetry  been  a  much 
later  and  less  notable  development. 

If  the  special  Reasons  for  the  decadence  of  the 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  61 

Elizabethan  lyric  after  the  death  of  James  the 
First  be  sought,  some  of  them,  at  least,  are  clearly 
manifest. 

One  of  them  is  found  in  the  political  character 
of  the  age,  especially  through  the  Stuart  and 
Commonwealth  eras,  while,  on  through  the  revo- 
lution of  1688  and  the  partisan  issues  of  the  Age 
of  Anne,  the  environment  was  anything  but 
friendly  to  genuine  idyllic  product. 

Still  again,  the  wild  excesses  of  the  Revolution 
were  enough  to  stifle  all  pure  poetic  fervor,  so 
that  no  man,  save  Milton,  could  pen  a  lyrical 
masterpiece  and  maintain  an  exalted  quality  of 
poetic  work.  Pope  in  his  Pastorals,  and  Dryden 
in  his  Odes,  made  but  few  attempts  in  lyrics  of 
any  success,  while  violent  and  abusive  satire 
served  to  reveal  the  extravagant  temper  of  the 
time. 

Moreover,  the  age  was  one  of  prose,  especially 
so  in  the  Commonwealth  and  Augustan  eras,  the 
revolutionary  influences  and  polemic  character  of 
the  era  demanding  it,  as  also  the  revolutionary 
influences  that  prevailed  after  the  dominance  of 
poetry  in  the  Golden  Age.  To  this  prose  develop- 
ment, Milton  himself  contributed,  while  Temple 
and   Dryden,   Swift   and  Addison,   gave   it  a  per- 


62  General  Discussions 

manent  place  and  repute  in  English  letters.  In 
the  meantime,  the  lyric  interest,  though  in  abey- 
ance, was  still  existent,  quietly  preparing  for  new 
expression.  When,  at  the  close  of  the  first  quar- 
ter of  the  eighteenth  century,  George  the  Second 
came  to  the  throne,  in  1727,  this  new  expression 
was  demanded  by  the  logic  of  events,  and  the 
publication  of  the  poems  of  Beattie  and  Gold- 
smith, in  1761,  ushered  in  the  second  lyrical  age 
of  English  letters,  the  accession  of  George  the 
Third,  in  1760,  marking  the  coincidence  of  Eng- 
lish Government  and  English  Letters. 

In  the  Later  Georgian  Era  (1727-1837),  we 
come  to  what  is  called,  by  way  of  eminence,  the 
"  New  Poetry,"  as  distinct  from  that  immediately 
antecedent  to  it;  what  Mr.  Gosse  has  well  de- 
scribed, in  the  phrase  the  "  Dawn  of  Naturalism," 
as  distinct  from  the  mechanism  of  the  age  pre- 
ceding; the  new  spirit  of  a  new  era,  sharply  dis- 
tinguished in  tone  and  aim  from  the  poetic  canons 
established  by  Dryden  and  Pope.  In  fact,  we  are 
standing  here  at  the  rise  of  the  Romantic  School, 
at  the  point  of  transition  from  the  classicism  of 
the  Augustan  Age  to  the  romanticism  of  the 
Georgian.  The  fact  of  interest  in  our  studies 
at  this  point  is,  that  this  radical  change  of  poetic 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  63 

spirit  and  ideal  expressed  itself  primarily  and 
mainly  in  the  sphere  of  lyric  verse;  the  very  char- 
acteristic of  the  lyric  as  spontaneous  and  emo- 
tional asserting  itself  as  the  chief  characteristic  of 
the  new  economy.  Thus  the  terms  "  Romanti- 
cism "  and  "  Lyrism "  are  synchronous  and  syn- 
onymous; the  birth  of  Burns,  in  1759,  just  a  year 
preceding  the  coronation  of  George  the  Third, 
giving  all  needed  promise  of  a  new  awakening  in 
the  realm  of  English  balladry.  Already,  in  the 
reign  of  George  the  Second,  manifest  signs  of  the 
new  and  higher  movement  were  at  hand,  in 
Thomson's  "  Seasons,"  in  Shenstone's  "  School- 
mistress," and  in  the  general  temper  of  the  time. 
The  publication,  in  1765,  of  Percy's  "  Reliques  of 
Ancient  English  Poetry,"  a  virtual  reproduction 
of  the  Old  EngHsh  specimen  of  lyric,  served,  at 
one  and  the  same  time,  to  recall  the  nation  to  its 
earlier  poetic  life,  and  to  stimulate  anew  the  spye- 
cific  idyllic  drift  of  the  age.  It  is  not  at  all 
strange,  but  strictly  in  the  line  of  literary  law  and 
sequence,  that,  when  this  "  Liberal  Movement " 
in  English  verse  fairly  opened,  scores  of  poets  of 
greater  and  lesser  note  should  have  responded  to 
the  poetic  demand  and  added  to  the  expanding 
volume    of    native    lyric.      Hence,    the    verse    of 


64  General  Discussions 

Crabbe  and  Campbell,  of  Coleridge  and  Cowper, 
the  ballads  of  Moore,  and  the  phenomenal  work 
of  Byron  and  Wordsworth  and  Burns.  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott's  "  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border," 
in  the  reign  of  George  the  Third,  confirmed  the 
lyric  purpose  of  the  antecedent  era  of  Percy's 
"  Reliques,"  reinstating  the  Old  English  lyric  in 
Modern  English  days,  and  revealing  to  the  liter- 
ary public  the  important  fact  that  English  lyric 
was  as  old  as  English  history  and  letters  and,  in 
a  sense,  expressed,  as  no  other  poetic  form  could 
have  done,  the  distinguishing  features  of  English 
character  and  life. 

Nor  was  this  great  lyric  development  altogether 
without  its  obstacles.  1.  Something  of  the  for- 
mal influence  of  Augustan  days  still  remained. 
2.  Moreover,  the  second  classical  period  of  Ger- 
man literature  was  exactly  coterminous  with  the 
rise  of  this  anti-classical  English  movement.  3. 
Still  further,  the  increasing  prominence  of  prose, 
and,  often,  on  the  philosophic  and  technical  side, 
is  notable,  appearing  in  such  works  as  Kames' 
"  Elements  of  Criticism,"  Blackstone's  "  Commen- 
taries," Burnet's  "  Origin  of  Language,"  Adam 
Smith's  ''Wealth  of  Nations,"  and  the  philoso- 
phy of   Reid  and    Priestley   and   Dugald   Stewart. 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  65 

4.  Lastly,  there  was  a  general  movement  of  the 
age  as  modern  toward  the  dominance  of  the  ma- 
terial and  practical.  All  this  was  anti-poetical, 
and  especially  anti-lyrical,  and,  yet,  the  lyric  im- 
pulse was  pronoimced  enough  to  assert  its  claims 
and  hold  its  course  well  on  through  the  period  to 
the  opening  of  the  Victorian  Age.  Throughout 
this  long  reign  of  sixty  years,  the  absence  of  any 
high  expression  of  epic  or  dramatic  verse  is  alto- 
gether noteworthy;  the  literary  product  of  the 
time,  with  but  few  exceptions,  being  divisible  into 
prose,  and  lyric  verse.  Herein  Hes  one  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  age,  which  is  almost  of  the 
nature  of  an  eccentricity,  that  it  should  express 
in  such  abundant  measure  the  two  extremes  of 
literary  art,  —  prose,  and  the  most  emotional  form 
of  verse;  the  practical  and  the  passionate;  the 
technical  treatises  of  science  and  philosophy,  and 
the  simplest  ballads  of  domestic  life.  A  partial 
explanation  of  this  anomaly  lies  in  the  fact  that 
the  preceding  age  of  classicism  expressed  itself 
in  prose,  and  the  new  spirit  of  the  poetic  Renais- 
sance, as  an  era  of  mental  and  social  freedom,  ex- 
pressed itself  in  ode  and  sonnet;  it  being  reserved 
for  the  age  succeeding  to  harmonize  these  ex- 
tremes and   reveal  the  presence  of  literary  unity. 


66  General  Discussions 

We  are  now  brought  to  the  final  era,  the  Vic- 
torian, and  the  opening  quarter  of  the  last  century ; 
some  of  the  lyrists  of  the  Later  Georgian  Era 
extending  their  influence  on  toward  Victorian 
times,  and  thus  coordinating  the  two  centuries. 
It  was  thus  with  Wordsworth  and  Scott  and 
Byron,  Shelley  and  Keats  and  Moore,  the  last  of 
the  Georgians  and  the  vanguard  of  the  Victorians, 
who  set  the  form  for  the  English  lyric  yet  to  come. 
They  ever  insisted,  as  a  lesson  to  their  successors, 
that  no  type  of  verse  in  English  should  ever  be 
allowed  to  supersede  the  poetry  of  the  heart  and 
of  human  life  as  it  is  daily  lived  in  the  home  and 
village  and  under  the  simplest  social  surround- 
ings. Nor  has  the  lesson  been  unheeded  by  the 
masters  of  Victorian  verse,  —  by  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing and  Tennyson  and  Clough  and  the  Rossettis, 
each  one  of  whom  has  done  notable  work  in  the 
line  of  the  lyric,  most  of  whom  have  done  their 
best  work  therein,  and  some  of  them  their  only 
worthy  work;  while,  in  American  Literature  as 
a  branch  of  English  Letters,  the  early  and  con- 
tinuous supremacy  of  the  lyric  is  a  fact  that  im- 
presses the  most  casual  observer.  In  fine,  in  so 
far  as  poetry  is  concerned,  the  Victorian  Age, 
throughout,    is   characteristically   lyrical;   the   dra- 


History  of  English  Lyric   Verse  67 

matic  monologues  of  Browning,  the  dramas  of 
Arnold  and  Tennyson,  not  being  sufficiently  nu- 
merous and  successful  to  mark  the  poetic  feature 
of  the  time.  Even  with  regard  to  Browning,  the 
greatest  intellectual  force  of  the  age  in  the  sphere 
of  verse,  modern  criticism  is  discovering  n;ore 
and  more  of  that  idyllic  element  that  makes  a  poet 
impressive  and  imposing.  The  title  of  one  of  his 
collections  —  "  Dramatic  Lyrics  "  —  is  itself  proof 
in  point  that,  even  in  the  drama,  his  deepest  feel- 
ings as  a  lyrist  were  enlisted.  They  might  as 
justly  be  called  Lyrical  Dramas.  So,  in  the  coIt 
lections  "  Dramatic  Romances "  and  "  Dramatis 
Personse,"  the  same  lyrico-dramatic  factor  is  ap- 
parent. In  this  lyrical  area,  as  in  no  other,  did 
Robert  Browning  and  Mrs.  Browning  come  into 
poetic  sympathy,  and  aim  at  a  common  ideal;  it 
being  true  of  Mrs.  Browning  that,  with  the  one 
exception  of  her  long  descriptive  poem,  "Aurora 
Leigh,"  her  entire  poetic  product  was  lyric.  Even 
this  poem  has  marked  lyrical  features.  So,  as  to 
the  classical  and  cultured  Arnold,  he  would  have 
in  hand  a  difficult  problem  who  aimed  to  disprove 
the  assertion  that  his  best  poetic  work  was  in  the 
sphere  of  the  reflective  lyric,  where  he  struggles 
to  voice  his  deepest  sentiments  on  God  and  man 


08  General  Discussions 

and  truth  and  destiny.  His  theory  that  poetry  is 
impassioned  truth  well  expresses  the  character  of 
his  poetic  ideal,  as  mainly  a  lyric  one,  nor  can  one 
read  far  into  the  volume  of  Arnold's  verse  with- 
out hearing  that  clear  and  often  pathetic  "  lyric 
cry "  that  sounded  the  keynote  of  much  of  his 
verse.  Critics  are  still  at  work  in  determining 
the  dominant  type  of  Tennyson's  verse,  and  that 
on  which  his  fame  is  finally  to  rest.  Is  it  in  the 
semi-epical  "  Idylls,"  in  "  Harold  "  and  "  Becket  " 
as  dramas,  or  in  his  various  lyrics,  short  and  long, 
gay  and  grave?  To  us,  the  question  is  scarcely 
debatable,  not  only  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  the 
larger  part  of  his  product  is  lyric,  but  that  herein 
his  poetic  genius  finds  its  fitting  place  and  home, 
the  best  portions  of  his  plays  and  narrative  verse 
being  the  lyric  portions.  The  titles  of  the  collec- 
tion, '^  English  Idylls,"  ''Ballads  and  Other  Po- 
ems," indicate  this.  The  earliest  collection,  "  Po- 
ems, Chiefly  Lyrical,"  might  mark  the  character 
of  his  best  endeavor ;  his  poetic  masterpiece,  "  In 
Memoriam,"  being  the  finest  expression  of  Eng- 
lish elegy.  Thus  have  the  later  lyrists  held  them- 
selves true  to  Elizabethan  and  Georgian  models, 
and  thus  have  they  happily  preserved  the  historic 
continuity  and  repute  of  English  lyric  verse. 


History  of  English  Lyric  Verse  69 

A  suggestion  of  interest  emerges  as  to  later 
English  lyric  verse,  —  that  of  Edwin  Arnold,  of 
Swinburne  and  Austin  and  Watson, —  Is  it  main- 
taining the  standard  already  established,  and  is  it 
giving  any  valid  promise  of  still  larger  results? 

The  four  respective  names  we  have  cited  are 
sufficient  to  indicate  a  high  degree  of  lyric  merit 
and  promise.  Of  Swinburne  it  may  safely  be 
said,  that,  whatever  meritorious  work  he  has 
done  in  the  classical  or  modern  English  drama,  it 
is  his  lyrical  verse  that  best  entitles  him  to  fame. 
His  "  Studies  in  Song  "  and  "  Songs  before  Sun- 
rise "  and  "  Century  of  Roundels  "  and  "  Poems 
and  Ballads  "  have  no  superior  in  Victorian  verse, 
either  as  to  their  internal  idyllic  character  or  their 
external  artistic  form,  the  richness  and  resonance 
of  the  rhythm  being  especially  notable.  Of  Edwin 
Arnold,  it  may  in  justice  be  said,  that  in  such 
collections  as  "  Pearls  of  Faith "  and  "  Italian 
Idylls "  he  has  successfully  embodied  in  lyric 
form  much  of  that  wealth  of  Asiatic  imagery 
which  appears  so  conspicuously  in  his  "  Light  of 
Asia  "  and  "  Light  of  the  World."  From  a  study 
of  Alfred  Austin's  "  Interludes "  and  "  English 
Lyrics "  and  "  SoHloquies  in  Song "  no  candid 
critic   can    fail   to    see   that,    while    the   note   they 


70  General  Discussions 

strike  is  not  Tennyson's,  it  is  a  genuine  lyric  note. 
Of  the  recently  collected  poems  of  Watson,  who 
is  a  lyrist  only,  we  may  confidently  affirm  that  he 
is  maintaining  the  earlier  English  lyrical  tradi- 
tions of  Chaucer  and  Spenser  and  Milton.  If  to 
these  masters  we  add  the  names  of  Lang,  Dobson, 
Buchanan,  Noyes,  and  Masefield,  we  are  amply 
warranted  in  indorsing  the  language  of  Stedman 
as  he  speaks  of  "  that  new  lyrical  cycle  of  achieve- 
ment "  which  is  to  follow,  as  he  believes,  closely 
upon  the  ending  of  the  Victorian  Era. 

Lyric  poetry,  as  the  poetry  of  the  heart,  makes 
its  permanence  assured.  So  long  as  human  na- 
ture is  what  it  is  in  its  fundamental  affections 
and  passions,  so  long  will  the  "  lyric  cry "  be 
heard  among  us,  and  become,  thereby,  a  literary 
as  well  as  a  moral  necessity.  Even  when  sensual- 
ism may  prevail,  as  at  the  Restoration,  or  a  ma- 
terialistic philosophy,  as  in  the  closing  decades  of 
the  last  century,  some  Milton  or  Tennyson  will 
arise  to  protest,  in  the  lyrical  strains  of  a  "  Co- 
mus  "  or  "  The  Vision  of  Sin,"  against  the  pre- 
vailing profligacy,  and  recall  the  English  people 
to  their  best  antecedents  and  ideals. 


IV 

ELIZABETHAN  DRAMATIC  DEVELOPMENT 

The  Golden  Age  of  English  Letters  is  made  so 
especially  by  its  distinctive  dramatic  development. 
Whatever  excellence  it  may  have  had  along  other 
lines  of  verse,  and  in  the  sphere  of  prose,  it  is  its 
dramatic  character  that  at  once  attracts  attention, 
and  puts  the  student  on  the  search  after  the  causes 
sufficient  to  account  for  it;  an  age  which  had,  as 
has  been  said,  "  many  hundreds  of  pieces  and 
more  than  fifty  masterpieces."  Taine,  the  emi- 
nent French  critic  of  English  literature,  would 
make  an  application  here  of  his  notable  threefold 
condition  of  the  literary  status  of  a  nation  —  that 
of  race,  of  epoch,  and  of  environment.  While  dra- 
matic ability,  as  general  literary  ability,  may  be, 
in  part,  assignable  to  natural  causes  —  to  genius, 
to  special  talent,  and  to  certain  innate  aptitudes  — 
Taine  insists  that  the  finally  determining  agencies 
are  external,  and  so  universally  such  that  no 
order  of  genius  is  independent  of  them.  Shake- 
speare, Dante,  Homer,  and  Cervantes  are  thus  as 
surely  influenced  by  them,  though  not,  perhaps,  as 


72  General  Discussions 

fully,  as  are  the  numerous  inferior  authors  of  a 
nation. 

Thus,  on  the  principle  of  race,  the  drama  is 
more  germane  to  certain  peoples  than  to  others. 
The  Greek  thus  offers  us  a  more  excellent  dra- 
matic literature  than  the  Latin,  and  the  South- 
European  continental  nations,  as  a  whole,  a  more 
excellent  drama  than  the  North-European,  not 
only  as  a  matter  of  literary  history,  but  as  a  mat- 
ter of  racial  instincts,  capabilities,  and  tendency, 
antecedent  to  history  and  quite  independent  of  it. 
As  peoples,  the  one  are  more  dramatic  in  spirit 
and  function  than  the  other.  Nationally  and  ra- 
cially, it  is  easier  for  them  than  for  others  to  ex- 
press their  literary  life  along  such  lines  and  in 
superior  forms.  They  are  constitutionally  dramatic, 
so  that  they  must  belie  their  inherited  characteris- 
tics if  they  fail  to  reach  decided  results  in  this 
direction.  In  this  respect,  the  English  race  may 
be  said  to  stand  midway  between  the  North  and 
the  South  of  Europe,  evincing  some  of  the  salient 
racial  tendencies  of  each,  while  having  distinctive 
dramatic  capacities  of  its  own. 

So,  as  to  the  second  condition,  that  of  epoch,  as 
determining  both  the  form  and  quality  of  literary 
product  at  any  given  period,  Lowell,  in  his  essay 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  73 

on  Shakespeare,  lays  down  a  general  principle 
which  is  here  in  point,  as  he  says,  "  The  first  de- 
mand we  make  on  whatever  claims  to  be  a  work 
of  art  is,  that  it  shall  be  in  keeping  " ;  and,  he  adds, 
"  this  may  be  either  extrinsic  or  intrinsic."  It  is 
this  principle  of  propriety,  in  its  extrinsic  form, 
that  is  here  in  place;  so  that  the  authorship  shall 
be  in  ''  keeping  "  with  the  era  in  which  it  is  pro- 
duced, a  synchronism  and  not  an  anachronism,  the 
natural  product  of  the  age  and  the  hour.  Apply- 
ing this  principle  historically,  we  would  not  expect 
to  find  in  the  Dark  Ages  of  Europe  that  dramatic 
development  which  we  find  in  later  and  more  en- 
lightened periods ;  nor,  in  despotic  eras,  what  we 
find  in  those  of  free  thought  and  general  national 
rule ;  nor,  in  the  earlier  epochs  of  a  literature,  what 
we  find  in  the  later,  when  crude  conditions  give 
way  to  maturity,  and  experiment,  to  settled  liter- 
ary habit.  The  lighter  forms  of  verse,  the  lyric 
and  descriptive,  may  flourish  in  the  earlier  eras  as 
they  have  historically  done,  and  poetry  appear  an- 
tecedent to  prose.  Hence,  the  drama  of  England 
in  the  sixteenth  century  was  timely,  as  it  could  not 
have  been  in  the  fifteenth  pr  seventeenth.  In  fact, 
in  no  succeeding  century  has  there  been  an  oppor- 
tune  time    for    the    English    drama,   even    though 


74  General  Discussions 

Dryden,  Byron,  Robert  Browning,  and  Tennyson 
have  done  conspicuous  work  in  that  direction. 
Just  why  this  is  so  is  clear  enough  as  to  the  seven- 
teenth and  eighteenth  centuries,  but  not  so  clear 
as  to  the  nineteenth ;  one  of  the  explanations,  how- 
ever, lying  in  the  fact  that  the  material  civilization 
which  prevailed  in  the  last  century  encouraged  the 
production  of  prose  rather  than  verse,  and,  in  verse 
itself,  the  lighter  lyric  forms. 

The  most  sanguine  among  us  are  not  rationally 
looking,  at  the  opening  of  the  twentieth  century, 
for  a  reappearance  of  the  Miltonic  epic  or  Shake- 
spearean drama.  So,  as  to  environment,  one  of  the 
most  favorite  words  of  modern  science  and  liter- 
ature, one  of  those  sociological  terms  which  other 
interests  have  borrowed  by  which  to  express  cer- 
tain forms  and  measures  of  influence  not  otherwise 
explained.  What  is  the  habitat  of  literature,  its 
homestead,  the  nature  of  its  vicinage?  Is  it  whole- 
some or  unwholesome,  incitive  or  repressive  of 
that  which  lies  dormant,  awaiting  expression?  Are 
the  surroundings  favorable  or  unfavorable?  Here 
and  there,  as  in  the  case  of  Milton's  great  epic,  in 
the  sensuous  days  of  Charles  the  Second,  litera- 
ture comes  to  high  embodiment  despite  all  adverse 
conditions,  as  men  of  bodily  vigor  will  occasionally 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  75 

be  found  in  the  most  unsanitary  districts.  This, 
however,  is  not  the  law  of  life.  Literature,  if  we 
may  so  express  it,  must  have  good  air  and  an 
abundance  of  it,  good  soil  in  which  to  cast  and 
cultivate  its  seed,  sufficient  light  and  heat  to  insure 
its  growth.  In  a  word,  it  must  have,  in  all  these 
particulars,  a  fair  chance  in  its  struggle  for  exist- 
ence, if  so  be  the  fittest  may  survive  and  perpetu- 
ate its  kind.  Here,  again,  England  in  the  sixteenth 
century  was  most  fortunate,  as  Italy  also  was;  so 
that  the  external  aided  the  internal,  and  what  we 
may  call  the  topography  of  the  literature  was 
the  best  possible  to  enable  authors  to  do  their 
best  work.  Locality  is  one  of  the  factors  in  all 
national  development  —  educational,  literary,  and 
social.  We  speak  correctly  of  the  genius  loci. 
There  is  the  spirit  of  the  place  as  well  as  of  the 
people  and  the  period,  a  something  in  the  field  it- 
self in  which  we  labor  to  stimulate  or  stifle  exer- 
tion. Such  are  Taine's  conditions,  each  having 
force,  and  together  constituting  a  most  important 
element  in  the  interpretation  of  any  literature. 

To  these,  however,  must  be  added  a  fourth,  the 
author  himself,  in  the  sum-total  of  his  personality, 
above  all  external  conditions,  be  they  as  potent  as 
they   may.     The   production   of  great   literary   re- 


76  General  Discussions 

1 
suits  under  the  most  unfriendly  circumstances  has 
been  often  enough  illustrated  in  the  history  of  lit- 
erature to  teach  us  that  there  are  times  when  the 
author  will  prove  himself  superior  to  his  antece- 
dents, his  epoch,  and  his  environment,  and  confirm 
the  priority  of  all  personal  factors.  The  produc- 
tion of  "  The  Faerie  Queene "  amid  the  wild 
wastes  and  the  wilder  political  disturbances  of 
Ireland,  or  of  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  in  the 
Bedford  jail  amid  the  civic  commotions  of  the 
Commonwealth,  is  quite  enough  to  attest  the  prin- 
ciple. Though  genius  is  dependent  somewhat  on 
conditions,  there  is  a  sense  in  which,  because  it  is 
genius,  it  is  independent  of  them,  and  in  the  great 
opportunities  of  authorship  takes  them  but  little 
into  account.  Literature  is  one  of  the  Humanities, 
and  the  human  element  is  central,  so  that  the  best 
explanation  of  the  Elizabethan  dramatic  develop- 
ment is  the  genius  of  the  dramatists.  In  noting, 
more  specifically,  the  Reasons  for  this  special  de- 
velopment of  the  drama  at  this  era,  we  emphasize 
three  or  four  of  marked  significance. 

The  first  is  seen  in  the  revival  of  classical  learn- 
ing, in  that  learning  was  then  embodied  more  fully 
in  the  ancient  languages  than  in  any  other  one  de- 
partment of  human  investigation.     More  especially 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  77 

was  this  true  as  to  the  Greek,  consequent  on  the 
fall  of  Constantinople,  in  1453,  when  the  Greek 
language  and  literature  were  disseminated  over 
Europe  and  the  West.  Hitherto,  in  the  centuries 
preceding  the  fall  of  Rome  and  the  fall  of  Constan- 
tinople, theology  and  philosophy  were  the  prevail- 
ing studies,  and  the  Latin^  as  the  language  of  Rome 
and  the  Romish  Church,  was  the  dominant  lan- 
guage of  Europe.  When  the  "  new  learning  "  came 
into  prominence,  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  theology 
and  philosophy  became  less  and  less  Romish,  and 
the  Greek  language,  more  and  more  prominent  — 
the  language,  it  is  to  be  noted,  in  which  the  best 
expressions  of  literature  in  dramatic  form  had  ap- 
peared. These  tragedies  and  comedies  were  the 
model  of  all  Europe,  so  that  the  revival  of  Greek 
was  the  revival  of  the  classical  drama,  as  a  stand- 
ard form  of  verse.  It  was  now,  naturally,  th^ 
ambition  of  the  native  English  dramatists  to  do 
for  England  what  Sophocles  and  ^schylus  had 
done  for  Greece,  to  establish  the  drama  as  na- 
tional, and  on  broad  and  lasting  foundations.  In 
connection  with  this  revival,  there  came  in  the  best 
results  of  medieval  learning,  especially  as  ex- 
pressed in  the  great  semi-dramatic  poem  of  Dante. 
The  coarser  elements  of  medievalism  were  largely 


78  General  Discussions 

disappearing,  or  were  transformed  by  Bacon  and 
others  into  more  modern  and  attractive  forms;  so 
that,  while  the  essential  spirit  of  scholarship  and 
literary  inquiry  remained,  much  of  the  bondage  of 
the  letter  had  disappeared.  Dramatists,  actors,  •• 
and  patrons  of  the  stage  now  understood  each 
other  better  than  in  the  early  days  of  the  Miracle 
Plays  and  Mysteries,  when  religious  bigotry  so 
prevailed. 

A  second  reason  for  this  unwonted  dramatic  de- 
velopment is  found  in  a  new  awakening  of  the  na-  ♦ 
tional  mind  and  spirit,  awaiting,  as  it  arose,  the 
pen  and  voice  of  those  who  might  be  capable  of 
appreciating  and  interpreting  it.  It  was  because  of 
this  demand  for  immediate  and  fitting  interpreta- 
tion, that  it  begat  and  fostered  a  distinctly  dra- 
matic tendency.  We  may  thus  call  the  essential 
type  of  this  national  revival,  histrionic,  possessed 
of  scenic  and  delineative  elements,  needing  the 
playwright  and  the  open  stage  to  embody  and  por- 
tray it.  For  the  first  time  in  its  history,  the  Modern 
English  nation  may  be  said  to  have  known  itself 
—  what  it  was,  just  where  it  stood  in  modern  his- 
tory, what  was  expected  of  it,  and  what  it  could 
reasonably  do.  In  fact,  there  had  been  no  Mod- 
ern  England   previous    to   this.      Modern   English 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  79 

statehood  and  Protestantism  now  began,  as  well 
as  Modern  English  civilization,  and  so  suddenly 
and  fully  that  the  impression  was  dramatic  in  its 
influence  on  the  national  mind.  Scores  of  poets, 
receiving  the  new  impulse,  betook  themselves  to 
dramatic  writing  as  the  first  necessity  of  the  hour. 
Hence,  an  additional  reason  for  the  special  lit- 
erary expansion  now  visible  is  found  in  the  em- 
phasis of  life  as  related  to  literature.  Never  had 
the  English  nation  been  so  thoroughly  alive  and 
so  impelled,  on  every  hand,  to  be  what  it  was  and 
do  what  it  did,  in  the  most  vital  forms.  There  was 
nothing  in  the  line  of  indifference  or  an  easy-going 
dependence  on  the  past.  It  was  the  unique  feature 
of  the  time,  that  the  past  was  to  be  subordinate  to 
the  present,  that  the  era  was  to  be,  in  reality  as 
well  as  in  name  and  chronology,  the  Modern  Era. 
All  this,  it  is  to  be  noted,  tended  to  produce  dra- 
matic authorship,  on  the  principle  that  action  is 
the  central  element  of  the  drama,  the  word  itself 
meaning  action,  which  is  but  another  name  for 
life.  Hence,  the  comedy  of  the  time  was  known, 
and  is  now  known,  as  the  "  Comedy  of  Life  and 
Manners."  The  tragedy  of  the  time  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  the  presentation  of  life  on  its 
serious  side.     So,  the  historical  plays  depicted  the 


80  General  Discussions 

story  of  the  diversified  life  of  man.  Life  itself  is 
essentially  dramatic,  so  that  human  experience  in 
its  manifold  phases  was  the  theme  and  content, 
as  it  was  the  imposing  cause,  of  the  Elizabethan 
plays. 

If  to  these  various  reasons  we  add  a  fourth,  the 
comprehensiveness  of  the  era,  including  the  old 
and  the  new,  the  real  and  the  ideal,  the  pagan  and 
Christian,  the  native  and  foreign,  all  unified  and 
fused  into  what  we  call  the  Elizabethan  Age,  we 
have  a  sufficient  explanation  of  the  age  itself,  of 
its  fundamental  quality  as  dramatic,  and  of  its 
undisputed  primacy,  even  yet,  in  the  sphere  of 
representative  verse. 

The  second  question  of  interest  that  arises  is. 
The  Influence  of  this  Sixteenth-century  Drama  on 
Other  Forms  of  Contemporary  Literature.  From 
the  fact  that  it  was  central,  it  must  have  affected 
more  or  less  closely  every  existent  form  of  litera- 
ture, and,  mostly,  those  forms  which  stood  nearest 
to  it  in  type  and  aim. 

Its  influence  on  the  prose  of  the  period  is,  first 
of  all,  noticeable.  Despite  the  fact  that  certain 
broad  distinctions  exist  between  prose  and  verse, 
as  respectively  metrical  and  unmetrical,  there  is 
an  area  common  to  them  both,  within  the  sphere, 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  81 

especially,  of  poetical  prose  and  didactic  poetry. 
Hence,  in  Shakespeare's  drama,  as  in  some  of 
Goethe's,  prose  is  not  only  found  coexistent  with 
the  poetry,  but,  at  times,  in  prominent  form,  as  in 
"  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,"  "As  You  Like  It," 
and  "The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  in  which  last 
play  Falstaff  discourses  in  prose  with  Mrs.  Page 
and  with  Pistol  and  the  other  characters.  Jn  fact, 
he  mingles  prose  and  verse,  as  he  mingles  blank 
verse  and  rhyme,  when,  in  accordance  with  his 
literary  insight,  the  thought  and  purpose  demand 
it.  So  the  other  dramatists  of  the  time,  of  whom 
Jonson,  in  his  "  Cynthia's  Revels "  and  "  Silent 
Woman,"  is  a  notable  example.  So,  Marlowe,  in 
his  "  Doctor  Faustus."  Of  Lyly's  nine  dramas, 
seven  are  in  prose;  these  facts  sufficing  to  show 
that  the  drama  is  not  necessarily,  though  it  is  pre- 
sumably, expressed  in  verse,  and  that,  when  the 
occasion  or  sentiment  demands  it,  the  poet  passes 
freely  into  the  prose  writer.  Herein  lies  the  ex- 
cellence of  Blank  Verse,  as  a  poetic  form,  in  that 
it  is  a  kind  of  accepted  compromise  between  spe- 
cific prose  and  specific  verse ;  being  verse,  in  that 
it  is  metrical,  and  having,  yet,  a  prose  type,  in 
that  it  is  rhymeless.  Hence,  epic  and  dramatic 
verse    have   adopted   it    as    their   prevailing   form, 


82  General  Discussions 

while  the  lyric  and  descriptive  are,  in  the  main,  in 
rhyme.  So,  the  Drama  and  the  Epic  are  related. 
In  each  of  them,  the  three  historic  unities  —  of  time, 
place,  and  action  —  are  present,  though  the  last  of 
these  is  more  prominent  in  the  drama.  Differing 
somewhat,  in  that  the  epic  is  mainly  narrative 
and  deals  with  the  past,  while  the  dramatic  is 
mainly  descriptive  and  deals  with  the  present  and  is 
given  in  the  form  of  dialogue,  each  of  them,  at 
times,  crosses  the  border-line  that  separates  them, 
minimizing  all  differences  between  them,  so  as  to 
present  a  unified  effect.  Tragedy  has  an  essen- 
tially epic  element,  on  the  side  of  moral  sublimity, 
as  the  Historical  Plays  have  such  an  .element  to 
the  degree  in  which  they  are  narrative.  Spenser's 
"  Faerie  Queene,"  though  a  modified  epic  poem,  has 
a  distinctive  dramatic  feature;  with  its  incidents, 
scenes,  and  characters,  its  seriousness  and  pleas- 
antry, so  as  to  make  upon  the  reader  a  semi- 
dramatic  impression.  So,  as  to  the  Drama  and 
the  Lyric,  as  in  the  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare,  essen- 
tially lyric,  but  partly  dramatic;  as  in  Spenser's 
"  Shepherd's  Calendar,"  a  pastoral  poem  with  dra- 
matic elements,  most  of  the  playwrights  of  this 
era  having  done  something  in  the  sphere  of  lyric 
verse.     In  the  Songs  and  Choruses  of  the  drama, 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  83 

this  relation  is  especially  conspicuous.  The  emo- 
tional element  germane  to  tragedy  is  the  central 
feature  of  the  lyric.  So,  Humor  and  Satire  as 
natural  to  Comedy  are  essentially  lyric.  Hence, 
it  appears  that,  from  whatever  point  of  view  we 
study  it,  dramatic  literature  in  the  Golden  Age 
was  central,  affecting  and  affected  by  every  other 
form  of  literature.  Herein  is  another  proof  of  the 
fact  that  the  current  opinion  of  criticism  as  to  the 
superiority  of  the  epic  to  all  other  forms  of  poetry 
is  to  be  so  far  modified  as  to  make  it  subordinate 
to  the  dramatic.  Its  status  is,  at  least,  an  open 
question. 

Coming  now  to  a  more  definite  survey  of  this 
affluent  dramatic  era,  it  is  in  place  to  note  the  in- 
dividual dramatic  poets  who  served,  more  or  less 
successfully,  to  make  the  era  what  it  was  in  our 
history.  Shakespeare  excepted  as  the  central  and 
inimitable  exponent  of  the  age,  it  is  the  critical 
habit  to  classify  all  other  playwrights  as  Minor  Au- 
thors, whether  his  predecessors,  immediate  contem- 
poraries, or  successors.  Special  care  is,  therefore, 
to  be  taken  lest  the  phrase  "  Minor  Elizabethan 
Dramatists "  be  falsely  interpreted.  The  very 
fact  that  they  are  Elizabethan,  giving  to  the 
Golden  Age  something  of  its  excellence,  is  suffi- 


84  General  Discussions 

cient  to  show  that  they  are  not  to  be  underrated. 
So  able  a  critic  as  HazHtt  devotes  one-half  of  his 
"  Elizabethan  Literature "  to  these  so-called  sec- 
ondary poets.  Lamb,  in  his  "  Specimens  of  Eng- 
lish Dramatic  Poets,"  writes  in  a  spirit  even  more 
decidedly  favorable.  More  recently  and,  as  if  to 
secure  a  continued  interest  in  these  authors,  Whip- 
ple, in  his  "  Essays  and  Reviews,"  pays  them  a 
high  eulogium ;  while  substantially  the  last  liter- 
ary work  which  Lowell  did  consisted  of  a  careful 
discussion  of  these  poets,  whom  he  calls  "  Old 
English  Dramatists,"  thus  anticipating  a  series 
now  in  preparation,  under  the  title  "  The  Best 
Plays  of  the  Old  English  Dramatists."  No  better 
proof  can  be  found  that  the  term  "  Minor,"  as 
here  applied,  must  be  used  relatively  only,  and  in 
view  of  the  unique  position  of  Shakespeare  at  the 
time.  So  high  was  the  standard  established,  that, 
in  any  other  age,  these  secondary  dramatists,  sec- 
ondary to  Shakespeare  only,  would  have  been 
among  the  first  of  their  order,  as  the  best  of  them 
are,  even  yet,  regarded  as  far  above  the  intellectual 
average  of  any  subsequent  age.  Though  their 
work  was  not  Shakespearean,  it  was  invaluable, 
in  separate  instances  closely  bordering  on  Shake- 
spearean  form;   while,  as  a  body  of  playwrights, 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  85 

their  aggregate  product  was  of  a  distinctive  order. 
It  is  questionable  whether  Shakespeare  himself 
would  have  been  the  peerless  author  that  he  was, 
apart  from  these  forerunners  and  contemporaries. 
It  is  a  well-known  fact  of  literary  history,  that 
even  Shakespeare's  asserted  preeminence  was  con-  • 
tested  by  contemporary  critics,  nor  was  it  till  a 
century  later,  in  the  days  of  Dryden,  that  this 
preeminence  was  accepted  without  question.  It  was 
the  general  representative  work  of  Jonson  and » 
Marlowe,  and  the  occasional  masterly  product  of 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Ford  and  Webster  and 
Massinger,  Lodge  and  Peele  and  Chapman,  that 
kept  this  open  question  before  the  English  public 
on  to  the  Age  of  Anne.  A  few  suggestions  as  to 
these  Minor  Dramatists  may  serve  to  show  the  im- 
portant place  that  they  held  in  the  literature  of  the 
time. 

First  of  all,  they  were  the  real  exponents  of  their 
age.  This  is  true  both  in  a  literary  and  a  mental 
sense,  and  especially  true  of  those  half-dozen 
among  them  who  held  the  leading  place.  Partic- 
ularly is  it  true  of  the  Marlowe  Group,  as  Shake- 
speare's immediate  predecessors,  that  they  heralded 
the  coming  epoch  and  prepared  the  way  for  it, 
using   well   what   light   they   had,   and   marking   a 


86  General  Discussions 

definite  dramatic  advance  over  all  that  had,  as  yet, 
existed.  Though  not  representative  to  the  same 
degree  that  Shakespeare  was,  they  were,  still,  rep- 
resentative, and  thus  in  line  with  the  general  lit- 
erary progress  and  the  specific  dramatic  progress 
of  the  period.  Moreover,  as  a  rule,  these  drama- 
tists were  University  men,  and,  thus,  by  liberal 
training,  qualified  to  take  their  place  and  play  their 
part  in  the  new  and  broader  economy.  Some  of 
them,  by  way  of  distinction,  were  known  as  "  Uni- 
versity Wits,"  and  thus  connected  the  literary  life  of 
the  time  with  its  scholarship  and  culture.  Scarcely 
too  much  emphasis  can  be  laid  on  the  fact  that, 
whatever  the  failings  of  these  minor  poets,  they 
had  enjoyed  special  intellectual  training  at  Oxford  * 
and  Cambridge,  and  not  infrequently  exhibit  its 
good  eflfects  in  their  authorship.  Here,  again,  the 
mastery  of  Shakespeare's  mind  and  art  is  all  the 
more  amazing,  in  that  he  stood  in  no  wise  related 
to  the  great  literary  institutions  of  the  nation. 

Their  exceptional  excellence  iw  dramatic  art  is, 
also,  noteworthy.  In  the  special  province  of  versi-  • 
fication  or  verse-structure  they  were,  in  the  main, 
far  in  advance  of  their  time,  using  the  modern  ac- 
centual method  in  preference  to  the  older  syllabic 
method,  and  thus  revealing  their  independence  of 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  87 

classical  models.  Marlowe,  at  this  point,  is  held 
in  high  repute,  his  "  Tamburlaine  "  being  the  first 
English  play  in  blank  verse,  as  his  "  Edward  the 
Second  "  was  the  first  historical  play  of  note.  His 
"  mighty  line "  was  always  effective,  so  that  the 
iambic  pentameter  of  later  English  verse  became 
firmly  established  as  the  prevailing  heroic  measure. 
This  inner  harmony  between  the  poetic  structure 
and  the  sense  was  truly  Shakespearean,  and  at  no 
point  do  many  of  these  minor  dramatists  so  closely 
resemble  their  master. 

It  should,  also,  be  noted  that  these  so-called 
secondary  poets  were  a  cooperative  school  of  work- 
ers, and  thus  unified  and  intensified  their  dra- 
matic power.  Thus  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Chap- 
man and  Dekker,  Webster  and  Dekker,  Middleton 
and  Rowley,  Nash  and  Marlowe,  composed  their 
plays  in  common.  They  constituted  a  real  Authors' 
Club  or  Guild,  working  toward  common  ends  and 
on  similar  methods,  while  iiot  surrendering,  at  all, 
their  individua4  tastes  and  aims.  They  were,  for 
the  time,  real  fellow-craftsmen,  partly,  of  necessity, 
and,  partly,  by  preference  and  fraternal  feeling. 
Thus  Shakespeare  himself  worked  conjointly  with 
Jonson  and  Marlowe,  his  two  greatest  dramatic 
contemporaries.     Indeed,  the  measure  of  this  mu- 


88  General  Discussions 

tual  indebtedness  can  never  be  fully  determined. 
That  it  existed  at  all  is  proof  in  point  that  there 
was,  in  the  main,  good  fellowship  between  the 
great  master  and  his  colleagues,  so  that  the  current 
criticism  to  the  contrary  must  be  modified.  It  is 
a  fact  of  Elizabethan  history  that  Shakespeare, 
when  first  in  London,  devoted  most  of  his  effort 
to  the  revision  of  the  work  of  his  inferiors. 

In  fine,  the  more  we  study  the  real  character  of 
this  great  dramatic  age,  the  more  distinctly  it  ap- 
pears that  much  of  its  greatness  lay  in  the  fact, 
that,  Shakespeare  apart,  there  was  at  work  a  body 
of  playwrights  masterful  enough  to  give  repute  to 
any  age  in  which  they  lived,  and  justly  classified  in 
later  history  as  "  Minor "  only  on  the  principle 
that  the  age  was  strictly  exceptional,  and  that  the 
imposing  presence  of  the  greatest  dramatist  of  all 
literature  overshadowed  every  lesser  light. 

From  this  brief  discussion  as  thus  outlined,  a 
question  of  peculiar  interest  emerges,  as  to  Shake- 
speare's indebtedness  to  other  authors.  The  vexed 
question  of  originality  in  an  author  is  still  an  open 
one  —  what  it  is;  what  its  relation  to  existing 
opinion  is;  to  what  degree  and  how  an  author 
must   evince   it   justly   to   be   called   original,   and 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  89 

whether  or  not  it  is  compatible  with  a  good  de- 
gree of  deference  to  estabHshed  authority.  Have 
we  any  strictly  original  treatise  on  Poetics  since 
Aristotle,  or  on  Sublimity  since  Longinus?  Are 
Carlyle  and  Emerson  original  because  they  state 
old  truths  in  new  forms,  or  how  is  the  critic  to  dis- 
tinguish, in  Tennyson's  "  Idylls  of  the  King,"  as 
based  on  the  old  Arthurian  Legends,  what  is 
original  and  what  imitative?  In  fact,  Aristotle 
himself  insists  that  poetry,  and  thereby  he  means 
dramatic  poetry,  is  essentially  an  imitative  art,  the 
poet  being  but  an  expositor  of  existing  truths.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  when  we  come  to  the  study  of 
Shakespeare,  we  are,  at  first,  jealously  careful  to 
insist  that  he,  above  all  others,  was  out  and  out 
original,  a  veritable  genius  in  the  province  of  the 
drama,  independent  of  all  preceding  and  contem- 
porary aids.  The  most  cursory  examination  of 
his  writings,  however,  is  enough  to  disabuse  our 
minds  of  this  a  priori  supposition,  so  that  we  are 
now  prepared  to  read  from  so  favorable  a  critic 
as  White,  what  would  at  first  have  startled  us, 
"  that  Shakespeare,  the  greatest  of  the  creative 
minds  who  have  left  their  mark  upon  the  ages, 
produced  nothing  new  in  design."  In  this  language, 
it   is    to   be    carefully    noted    that    Shakespeare    is 


1)0  General  Discussions 

called  creative,  his  originality  consisting  mainly  in 
something  else  than  the  design  or  invention  of  the 
material  of  the  plays.  White  interprets  for  us  his 
own  language  as  he  adds :  "  His  supreme  excel-  "• 
lence  was  attained  simply  by  doing  better  than  any 
one  else  that  which  others  had  done  before  him." 
To  the  same  effect,  Professor  Moulton,  in  his  work 
entitled  "  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist,"  in- 
sists that  the  staple  or  "  raw  material "  of  the 
great  poet's  drama,  the  materia  dramatica,  was 
scarcely  Shakespeare's  at  all,  but  gathered  by  oth- 
ers before  him,  and  utilized  by  him  in  that  inimi-  • 
table  way  to  which  he  only  was  competent.  His 
genius  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  was  beyond  imita- 
tion, though  himself  appropriating  all  that  came  to 
his  hand  that  he  needed  in  the  evolution  of  his 
work. 

The  proofs  of  this  dependence  are  not  far  to 
find.  In  his  first  non-dramatic  poem,  "  Venus  and 
Adonis,"  he  resorted  to  Ovid's  "  Metamorphoses  " 
for  the  substance  of  the  story.  So,  as  to  the  non- 
dramatic  poem  immediately  following  it,  "  The 
Rape  of  Lucrece,"  Shakespeare  having  recourse  to 
Chaucer  and  Lydgate  and  the  earlier  ballads  for 
the  current  story  of  Lucretia  the  chaste;  it  being 
possible  that  he   may   have  been   acquainted  with 


Elizabethan  Dramatic  Development  91 

such  classical  accounts  of  the  story  as  are  found 
in  the  "  Fasti,"  rendered  into  English  in  1570  and 
thus  accessible  to  all  later  writers  in  English.  The 
French  historian  Guizot,  in  his  instructive  work 
"  Shakespeare  and  his  Times,"  gives  a  brief  analy- 
sis of  several  of  his  tragedies,  historical  plays,  and 
comedies,  emphasizing  in  each  this  dependence  of 
the  author  on  antecedent  history.  "  Romeo  and 
Juliet "  looks  back  to  "  La  Gioletta,"  rendered  into 
English,  and  made  the  subject  of  an  English  poem 
by  Brooke,  in  1562.  "  Hamlet "  reminds  the 
reader  of  the  History  of  Denmark  by  Saxo  Gram- 
maticus,  accessible,  in  translated  form,  in  the  six- 
teenth century.  "  King  Lear  "  recalls  the  name  of 
Holinshed  and,  prior  to  him,  that  of  Geoffrey  of 
Monmouth,  and  Ina,  King  of  Saxons.  In  "  Mac- 
beth," Holinshed  is  again  the  authority.  In  "  Julius 
Caesar,"  Shakespeare  may  have  consulted  an  exist- 
ing play  of  that  name  by  Sterline.  In  "  Othello," 
we  are  led  back  to  Cinthio's  "  Hecatommithi,"  re- 
garding which  Guizot  remarks,  "  There  is  not  a 
single  detail  in  Shakespeare's  tragedy  which  does 
not  occur,  also,  in  Cinthio's  novel." 

As  to  the  Historical  Plays,  it  goes  without  say- 
ing, that  Shakespeare  availed  himself  of  all  ac- 
cepted authorities  on  the  respective  kings  and  eras. 


1)2  General  Discussions 

Turning  to  the  Comedies,  the  "  Merchant  of  Ven- 
ice "  reminds  us  of  various  sources,  such  as  the 
"  Gesta  Romanorum,"  and  Giovanni's  "  Pecorone." 
Of  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  it  is  said 
"  that  a  number  of  novels  may  contest  the  honor 
of  having  furnished  the  poet  with  the  substance 
of  the  adventure."  ''  The  Tempest  "  finds  its  oc- 
casion in  the  same  antecedent  ItaHan  Romance. 
''As  You  Like  It"  reminds  us  of  "The  Tale  of 
Gamelyn,"  of  Chaucerian  days,  finding  its  plot  in 
Lodge's  "Rosalind."  In  "The  Winter's  Tale," 
the  dramatist  draws  freely  on  Greene's  "  Pan- 
dosto."  "  Cymbeline "  depends,  in  part,  on  Hol- 
inshed;  on  the  semi-mythical  material  of  Medieval 
Romance,  and  of  Boccaccio's  version  of  the  story, 
in  "  The  Decameron."  So  "  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing "  borrows  from  Ariosto  and  Bandello. 
"  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream "  recalls  Chau- 
cer's "  Knight's  Tale,"  as,  also,  Ovid  and  Plutarch. 
So  "  Twelfth  Night "  makes  a  modified  use  of 
Italian  authors,  so  frequent  a  source  of  reference 
of  Shakespeare  that  we  must  argue  therefrom  to 
his  wide  knowledge  of  its  history  and  literature. 

Thus  Shakespeare's  indebtedness  is  revealed.  If 
to  this  form  of  aid  the  fact  is  added,  that,  in  not 
a  few  instances,  the  poet  seemed  to  seek  the  aid 


Elisahethan  Dramatic  Development  9o 

of  his  fellow-dramatists,  in  the  composition  and 
final  setting-  of  a  play,  as  he  in  turn  gave  them  aid, 
it  is  clear  that  this  indebtedness  has  not  as  yet  been 
sufficiently  emphasized.  Herein,  moreover,  is  shown 
Shakespeare's  poetic  wisdom,  and  his  economy  in 
the  use  of  material,  in  that  he  subordinated  to  his 
service  all  truth  and  fact  that  he  could  find,  while 
yet  maintaining  his  natural  powers  intact.  Here 
was,  indeed,  an  evidence  of  genius,  in  that  no  other 
poet  could  have  done  this  as  he  did.  It  was  a 
genius  of  adaptation  or  utilization,  and,  in  its 
place  and  way,  an  expression  of  genius  as  valuable 
as  that  of  absolute  creative  skill.  Professor  Dow- 
den  speaks  of  the  Mind  and  Art  of  Shakespeare. 
His  art  as  well  as  his  mind  revealed  his  genius,  and 
his  manifestations  of  it  in  unison  produced  the 
matchless  product  that  we  have  in  his  dramas. 

Thus  in  Shakespeare  and  the  Minor  Dramatists 
alike  is  seen  the  special  dramatic  development  of 
the  Elizabethan  Age,  each  contributing  in  his  way 
to  the  aggregate  result,  and  each  acknowledging  in 
just  degree  the  principle  of  interdependence  in 
authorship.  Had  it  not  been  that  many  of  these 
dramatists  were  men  of  a  low  type  of  morals ;  that 
not  a  few  of  them  were  absolutely  dependent  on 
the  Court  for  a  livelihood,  and  thus  more  or  less 


94  General  Discussions 

servile  in  their  literary  work;  and  that  the  prevail- 
ing vice  of  Euphuism  affected  much  of  their  literary 
product,  the  Golden  Age  would  have  been  still 
more  phenomenal  in  our  dramatic  history,  and  all 
efforts  to  reproduce  it  still  more  hopeless. 

As  it  is,  however,  its  limitations  all  conceded,  it 
has  as  yet  no  counterpart  in  our  later  literary  his- 
tory and  favorably  compared  at  the  time  with  any 
contemporary  Continental  drama. 

That  such  an  era  should  not  be  continuous 
through  the  later  history  was  to  be  expected;  so 
that,  as  we  stand  at  the  opening  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  evidences  of  decadence  already  appear. 
Such  is  the  law  of  life  and  of  literature,  the  law 
of  action  and  reaction,  of  decline  and  disappear- 
ance. In  due  time,  however,  reviving  forces 
should  assert  themselves,  and  once  again,  a  race 
of  poets  appear  who  should  take  up  the  history  of 
dramatic  progress  where  once  it  was  interrupted, 
and,  under  the  newer  impulse  of  succeeding  eras, 
fully  reproduce  the  genius  of  Shakespeare  and  his 
time. 


V 
ENGLISH  DRAMATIC  VERSE  AFTER  SHAKESPEARE 

This  era  includes  the  comprehensive  period  be- 
tween Elizabeth  and  Victoria,  an  era  of  over  three 
centuries,  as  contrasted  with  the  half-century  of 
the  drama  of  the  Golden  Age,  in  which  contrast 
is  found  a  sufficiently  striking  difference  between 
the  dramatic  character  and  product  of  the  respect- 
ive periods.  There  is  a  sense,  indeed,  in  which 
English  literature  may  be  said  to  have  had  but  one 
specifically  dramatic  age,  all  post-Shakespearean 
dramatic  product  being  properly  classified  as  sec- 
ondary. In  this  respect,  EngHsh  dramatic  verse 
is  strikingly  distinct  from  English  lyric  as  a  stead- 
ily progressive  literary  evolution,  and  more  in 
keeping  with  English  epic,  which  reached  as  high 
a  status  in  the  poetry  of  Milton  in  the  seventeenth 
century  as  it  has  done  in  any  subsequent  era. 

Hence,  it  may,  at  the  outset,  be  noticed  that  it 
is  quite  impossible  to  speak  of  the  Historical  De- 
velopment of  the  Modern  English  Drama,  as  we 
speak  of  that  of  Modern  English  Prose  or  English 
Lyric,   in   the   sense   of   discovering  a   progressive 

95 


96  General  Discussions 

evolution  of  better  and  better  product.  If  we  call 
the  pre-Elizabethan  age  preparative,  as  it  was,  and 
the  Elizabethan,  culminative,  then  all  that  is  post- 
Elizabethan  must  be,  at  its  best,  but  a  little  more 
than  a  reproduction,  in  varied  and  somewhat  in- 
ferior form,  of  antecedent  product.  When  it  is 
said  by  Ward,  that  "  all  literary  growths  are  con- 
tinuous," it  would  be  sufficient  to  show  in  the  case 
of  the  later  English  drama  that  it  is  not  strictly  a 
growth  at  all,  but  rather  a  literary  history  with  its 
diversified  features  of  progress  and  decline.  It  is 
this  fact  that  Ward  himself  has  in  mind  when  he 
adds :  "  In  literary,  as  in  all  other  history,  it  is 
generally  difficult  to  say  where  growth  passes  into 
decline,  and  where,  in  the  midst  of  exuberant  life, 
the  first  signs  announce  themselves  of  the  begin- 
ning of  the  end."  In  other  words,  growth  had 
ceased  by  "  passing  into  decline,"  and  it  becomes 
the  object  of  the  student's  researches  to  follow 
carefully  the  course  of  the  decline  and  note  any 
deviations  from  it  to  that  which  is  better. 

In  any  case,  the  first  fact  of  interest  as  to  the 
drama  before  us  is,  that  it  is  a  record  of  decline, 
however  complex  and  concealed  the  causes  of  such 
a  decline  may  be.  These  are  found,  in  part,  (1)  in 
the  uniform  principle  of  literary  reaction,   (2)    in 


Dramatic   Verse  after  Shakespeare  07 

the  increasing-  emergence  of  non-dramatic  condi- 
tions, and  (3)  in  the  necessary  limitations  of  the 
human  mind,  making  it  incapable  of  the  prolonged 
exercise  of  such  a  high  order  of  literary  genius, 
the  literary  history,  in  the  main,  following  the 
course  of  the  civic  and  social  history  of  the  nation. 
Be  the  causes  what  they  may,  what  is  called  the 
Decadence  of  the  Drama  had  definitely  begun. 
The  volume  "  From  Shakespeare  to  Pope,"  by 
Gosse,  is  substantially  applicable  to  dramatic  po- 
etry, as  a  specific  form,  well  called  "  a  mundane  '' 
order  of  poetry,  seeking  its  sources  in  purely  secu- 
lar and  temporal  conditions.  Saintsbury  classifies 
the  plays  of  the  century  into  four  periods, —  those 
of  Marlowe,  Shakespeare,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
and  Massinger,  respectively.  The  last  of  these  is 
the  era  of  decadence,  becoming  more  and  more  de- 
cadent as  the  century  closes.  The  Shakespearean 
plays  of  the  period  are  sufficient  proof  of  such  a 
decadence,  evincing  its  progress  by  an  ever-increas- 
ing number  of  mere  dramatic  adventurers  and  po- 
etasters. What  is  known  among  the  critics  as  the 
Artificial  English  Drama  now  prevailed,  when  the 
masters  had  disappeared,  and  the  novices  had  as- 
sumed control. 


08  General  Discussions 

THE    EARLY    STUART    AND   THE    PURITAN    PERIOD 

As  we  enter  this  era,  including  the  reigns  of 
James  I.  and  Charles  I.,  there  is  an  explanation  of 
decadence,  as  seen  in  the  Loss  of  National  Pres- 
tige. "  Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  glories  with  which 
her  name  was  identified  seem  all  but  forgotten." 
"  Had  England,  at  the  time,"  writes  Ward,  "  taken 
a  resolute  part  in  the  great  European  struggle,  the 
traditions  of  a  great  national  epoch  must  have 
counted  for  much."  "As  it  was,"  he  adds,  "  the 
pacific  policy  of  James,  and  the  uncertainty  in  the 
councils  of  Charles,  doomed  England  to  virtual 
inaction  in  the  midst  of  a  tremendous  European 
crisis,  and  the  ancient  glories  rusted  in  the  national 
consciousness."  The  stirring  memories  of  Eliza- 
bethan days,  of  the  Spanish  Armada,  and  the  tri- 
umphs of  British  arms  were  but  dimly  recalled  by 
the  Stuart  kings.  Hence  the  drama  was  out  of 
sympathy  with  the  current  thought  of  the  time, 
either  at  home  or  on  the  Continent.  It  was  dena- 
tionalized, isolated,  and  unsympathetic,  locaHzed 
in  era,  and  positively  restricted  in  the  free  expres- 
sion of  its  national  life.  In  the  reign  of  James  I., 
it  is  true,  some  of  the  old  Elizabethan  playwrights 
were  still  at  work,  —  Beaumont,  Fletcher,  Jonson, 
Massinger,   and  Webster;   as,  in  that  of  Charles 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Sltakespeare  99 

I.,  there  were  Ford  and  Jonson,  Massinger  and 
Marlowe.  The  premonitions  of  decline,  however, 
were  at  hand,  hastened  by  the  political  disturbances 
of  the  time,  and  the  approach  of  the  Puritan  non- 
dramatic  era.  Though  some  encouragement  to  the 
higher  drama  was  given  by  James  I.,  and  though 
the  tastes  of  Charles  I.  and  his  queen  were  some- 
what literary  and  in  sympathy  with  true  dramatic 
development,  the  environment  was,  in  the  main, 
unfriendly.  The  flagrant  corruptions  of  the  Court 
of  Jam'es  had  left  its  baneful  influence  upon  that 
of  his  successor;  wider  and  wider  distances  were 
drawn  between  the  classes  and  the  masses.  The 
best  elements  were  in  abeyance  to  the  worst,  until 
the  English  stage  and  drama  were  at  length  over- 
whelmed by  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution  of  1640. 
Manifestly,  the  higher  drama  could  not  flourish 
under  such  conditions,  despite  the  efforts  of  the 
last  of  the  Elizabethans  to  sustain  it.  Even  in 
comedy,  the  comedy  of  character  gave  way  to  the 
comedy  of  manners  and  intrigue  and  verbal  artifice. 
Playwrights  vied  with  each  other  in  mere  fertility 
of  production  and  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  its  liter- 
ary merit.  Despite  the  efforts  of  Herbert  and  Chil- 
lingworth,  Fuller,  Taylor  and  Milton,  the  moral 
atmosphere  of  the  time  reached  such  a  measure  of 


100  General  Discussions 

defilement  that  it  was  impossible  for  a  man  of  con- 
science "  to  draw  his  breath  freely." 

The  culmination  of  this  series  of  movements  ex- 
pressed itself  in  the  Puritan  Period  of  1649-60, 
which,  though  brief,  is  crowded  with  critical 
events,  historical  and  literary ;  stands  midway  be- 
tween the  monarchy  of  the  early  Stuarts  and  the 
anarchy  of  the  later;  contains  within  itself  the  ex- 
tremes of  evil  and  of  good,  and  is,  even  yet,  in  all 
its  bearings,  som^ething  of  a  puzzle  to  literary  and 
civic  historians.  Of  dramatic  history,  it  may  be 
said  that  it  had  none.  Seven  years  prior  to  its 
opening,  in  1642,  theaters  were  closed  by  due  pro- 
cess of  law,  and  not  reopened  until  the  accession 
of  Charles  11. ,  in  1660.  It  was,  indeed,  a  penal 
offense  even  to  be  a  spectator  of  plays.  This  is  not 
the  place  in  which  to  discuss  the  Puritan  protest 
against  the  English  drama,  the  most  charitable 
conclusion  being  that,  with  pure  motive  and  a  just 
occasion  in  the  excesses  of  the  time,  some  modifi- 
cation of  their  drastic  method  might  have  conduced 
to  wholesome  issues.  What  is  known  as  the  Anti- 
Theatrical  literature  of  the  time  is  of  this  violent 
and  extreme  character,  culminating  in  Prynne's 
"  Histrio-Mastix "  (The  Players'  Scourge),  in 
which  he  holds   that  all   plays  originate   with  the 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare        101 

devil,  and  contribute  directly  to  his  dominance  in 
the  world.  In  an  age  when  Taylor,  Baxter,  and 
Bunyan  were  writing,  it  is  not  strange  that,  by 
way  of  reaction  from  the  profligacy  that  had  pre- 
vailed, these  serious-minded  Covenanters  should 
have  denounced  all  plays  and  players  as  of  the 
devil,  and  in  their  zeal  for  Christian  honor  have 
exhibited  an  unchristian  temper. 

Nor  is  it  any  the  less  strange  that,  when  the 
Puritans  had  had  their  day,  and  Charles  II.  re- 
turned from  France  with  the  latest  schooling  in 
Parisian  ethics,  all  prior  records  should  have  been 
surpassed,  and  the  English  theater,  now  reopened, 
should  have  become  the  synonym  for  mental  imbe- 
cility and  moral  debauchery. 

THE    LATER    STUART    DRAMA RESTORATION    DRAMA 

This  extends  from  the  restoration  of  Charles  II., 
in  1660,  to  the  death  of  Dryden,  in  1700,  continu- 
ing its  influence,  more  or  less  directly,  into  the 
reign  of  Queen  Anne  on  to  its  close  in  1714.  As 
already  suggested,  in  accounting  for  the  special 
type  of  drama  introduced  at  this  time,  scarcely  any 
further  cause  need  be  assigned  than  that  of  Reac- 
tion. The  Restoration  itself  was  a  reactionary 
movement  in  English  politics  and  life,  as  contrasted 


102  General  Discussions 

with  the  immediately  preceding  Puritan  Period. 
The  restrictions  of  the  Commonwealth  could  no 
longer  be  tolerated  by  a  monarch  and  a  court  of 
the  Restoration  type,  and  this  unbridled  desire  for 
fullest  liberty  naturally  expressed  itself  in  the  re- 
opening of  the  theaters,  in  1660.  Just  as  the  Puri- 
tans, at  the  opening  of  the  interregnum,  in  1649, 
represented  a  reactionary  anti-dramatic  movement 
against  the  antecedent  dramatic  order;  so,  in  the 
Later  Stuart  Era,  we  note  a  reactionary  dramatic 
movement  against  the  antecedent  anti-dramatic  or- 
der, literary  history  here  repeating  itself,  and  in 
obedience  to  what  we  are  wont  to  call  an  inevitable 
law  of  providence.  Short  as  the  era  is,  its  position 
midway  between  the  sixteenth  and  eighteenth  cen- 
turies of  English  history  and  literature  gives  it  a 
character  and  influence  altogether  above  its  in- 
trinsic merits,  and  makes  it  all  the  more  essential 
that  the  interpretation  of  its  place  should  be  a  just 
one. 

Mr.  Gosse,  in  describing  the  conditions  of  the 
English  drama  after  the  Restoration,  remarks, 
"  that  the  drama  took  a  place  in  English  Literature 
during  the  last  third  of  the  seventeenth  century 
relatively  more  prominent  than  it  has  ever  taken 
since."     "  Certain    sections    of    society,"    he    adds. 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare         103 

"  were  passionately  addicted  to  theatrical  amuse- 
ments. Their  appetite  had  been  whetted  by  eighteen 
years  of  enforced  privation."  This  imperious  de- 
mand, of  course,  created  a  corresponding  measure 
of  supply.  One  of  the  chief  reasons  why  dramatic 
literature  now  so  prevailed  was  the  specifically 
practical  one  of  its  immediate  money  returns. 
Scores  of  playwrights  had  been  impatiently  wait- 
ing for  just  such  a  demand  for  their  theatrical 
product,  and  when  the  conservative  policy  of  the 
Puritans  gave  way  to  the  free  indulgence  of  the 
Stuart  Era  these  poverty-stricken  authors  emerged 
from  their  retreats  with  manuscripts  in  readiness, 
and  the  English  market  was  fairly  burdened  with 
the  weight  of  their  dramatic  wares.  This  is  one 
reason,  among  others,  why,  on  the  one  hand,  so 
many  authors  of  the  day  were  playwrights,  and, 
on  the  other,  why  so  few  of  them  attained  to  any- 
thing like  literary  eminence  in  dramatic  verse. 

If  we  inquire  as  to  the  characteristics  of  these 
Restoration  plays,  they  may  all  be  summarily  ex- 
pressed in  the  one  word  Servility,  —  mental,  moral, 
literary,  and  official.  The  Restoration  was  that  of 
Charles  11.  and  his  court,  and  monarchy  itself  was 
out-monarchied  by  the  manner  in  which  that  which 
was  written,  in  prose  and  verse,  was  written  in  ab- 


104  General  Discussions 

ject  deference  to  the  Stuart  will.  It  was  the  king 
and  the  courtiers  and  their  immediate  followers 
who  suggested  the  themes  and  the  general  tenor 
of  the  tragedy  and  comedy ;  who  smiled  or  frowned 
as  the  plays  pleased  or  displeased  them;  on  whom 
authors  and  actors  were  alike  dependent  for  their 
daily  living,  in  that  they  created  by  their  influence 
the  public  demand  for  the  stage.  The  drama  was 
thus,  out  and  out,  servile:  a  drama  of  the  court 
and  the  crown,  and  not  of  the  great  English  com- 
monalty; a  drama  of  civil  and  religious  partisan- 
ship, and  not  of  unshackled  opinion  in  church  and 
state ;  mentally  and  morally  inferior,  because  ser- 
vile and  incapable,  thereby,  of  rising  to  anything 
like  poetic  primacy.  It  was,  to  this  extent,  wholly 
un-Elizabethan.  It  is  in  keeping  with  this  view  that 
Ward  writes,  *'  Had  the  Restoration  drama  been  in 
true  sympathy  with  the  Elizabethans,  it  might  have 
reached  a  commanding  level  of  excellence,"  by 
which  he  means,  had  it  been  more  catholic  and  in- 
dependent, it  would  have  been  nobler  and  thor- 
oughly in  line  with  the  best  English  traditions.  "  It 
is,"  he  adds,  "  because  it  was  untrue  to  these  tra- 
ditions that  its  history  is  that  of  a  decay  such  as 
no  brilliancy  can  conceal." 

More  specifically,  he  gives  us  a  satisfactory  triple 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare         105 

explanation  of  this  decline,  when  he  states,  that 
this  later  drama  was  *'  untrue  to  the  higher  pur- 
pose of  the  dramatic  art,  to  the  nobler  tendencies 
of  the  national  life,  and  to  the  eternal  demands  of 
the  moral  law."  Each  of  these  instances  of  un- 
faithfulness, it  may  be  said,  was  but  the  result  or 
evidence  of  that  base  servility  that  stifled  all  genius 
and  patriotism  and  art.  When  Collier  issued,  in 
1698,  his  "  Short  View  of  the  Profaneness  and  Im- 
morality of  the  English  Stage,"  it  was  not  alto- 
gether against  specific  moral  abuses  that  he  was 
contending,  but  against  the  entire  spirit  and  motive 
of  the  drama  of  his  day  as  unworthy  of  the  an- 
tecedent history  of  England,  as  un-English  as  it 
was  un-Elizabethan.  High  dramatic  art  gave  way 
to  the  lowest  forms  of  Sentimental  Comedy;  and 
the  direful  teachings  of  Hobbes,  that  conscience  is 
a  myth,  and  right  and  wrong  unfounded  antithe- 
ses, became  the  current  doctrine  of  the  hour.  It 
was  the  High  Noon  of  imbecility  and  immorality, 
when  the  English  stage,  according  to  Henry  Irving, 
was  "  a  mere  appendage  of  court  life,  a  mirror  of 
patrician  vice  hanging  at  the  girdle  of  fashionable 
profligacy." 

Of  dramatists  busily  at  work,  in  this  intervening 
era,  there  is  no  lack,  as  almost  every  writer  of  any 


106  General  Discussions 

literary  talent  made  the  attempt,  at  least,  to  meet 
the  increasing  dramatic  demand.  Hence  the  names 
of  Etherege,  Aphra  Behn,  Davenant,  Wycherley, 
Farquhar,  Vanbrugh,  Otway,  Lee,  Southerne  and 
Congreve.  High  over  all,  in  general  and  special 
gifts,  the  name  of  John  Dryden  stands,  the  semi- 
dramatic  work  of  Milton  giving  him,  also,  an  his- 
toric place  among  the  Restoration  dramatists.  Of 
these  several  authors  it  is  not  within  our  pres- 
ent purpose  to  speak.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  they 
reveal,  in  part,  the  fact  that  dramatic  literature 
was  a  representative  poetic  type  of  the  time;  that 
the  great  majority  of  these  playwrights  serve  but 
to  show  what  imposing  proportions  poetic  medioc- 
rity can  assume,  and  to  prove  the  truth  of  Ward's 
statement  "  that  of  all  forms  of  literary  art  the 
drama  can  least  reckon  without  its  responsibilities." 
Here  and  there,  in  this  vast  volume  of  dramatic 
product,  an  author  or  a  play  of  distinctive  merit 
appears,  the  nearest  approximation  to  the  excel- 
lence of  Dryden  appearing  in  the  work  of  Con- 
greve, author  of  "  The  Mourning  Bride,"  "  The 
Double  Dealer,"  "  Love  for  Love,"  whom  Dryden 
praises  in  unstinted  terms,  to  whom  Pope  dedi- 
cates his  "  Iliad,"  and  of  whom  Voltaire  says,  "  that 


Dramatic   Verse  after  Shakespeare         107 

he  raised  the  glory  of  comedy  to  a  greater  height 
than  any  EngHsh  writer  before  or  since." 

It  was  Dryden,  however,  who  was  the  "  hero  of 
the  age  and  the  stage,"  as  central  in  later  Stuart 
literary  history  as  Shakespeare  was  in  the  earlier, 
and  Sheridan  in  the  following  era ;  a  dramatic  critic 
as  well  as  composer;  a  writer  of  tragedies,  come- 
dies, prologues  and  epilogues ;  the  accepted  censor 
of  his  age ;  and,  despite  the  ridicule  of  Buckingham 
in  his  ''  Rehearsal,"  possessed  of  undoubted  liter- 
ary genius,  though  often  prostituted  to  the  basest 
ends.  It  was  reserved  for  Dryden  to  illustrate,  at 
once,  the  servility  and  scurrility  of  the  Stuart 
drama,  and,  also,  to  redeem  its  name  from  the 
charge  of  mental  mediocrity.^  The  attempt  of  Mil- 
ton in  "  Samson  Agonistes  "  to  take  part  in  dra- 
matic work  is  as  interesting  as  it  is  anomalous ;  as 
if  in  the  character  of  the  last  of  the  Elizabethans, 
he  would  recall  his  contemporaries  to  the  forgotten 
traditions  of  their  fathers;  protest,  in  the  name  of 
truth  and  virtue,  against  the  riotous  rule  of  the 
Philistines  in  literature,  and  ominously  point  out 
to  Charles  II.  the  certain  fate  of  those  who  set  at 
naught  the  laws  of  God  and  man.  In  the  same 
volume  with  "  Paradise  Regained,"  and  issued  in 
1671,  but  a  few  years  after  the  publication,  in  1667, 


108  General  Disciissions 

of  "  Paradise  Lost,"  this  great  English  champion 
of  purity  and  truth  persisted  in  uttering  his  mes- 
sage in  the  ears  of  a  king  and  court  utterly  indif- 
ferent thereto,  absorbed  as  they  were  in  the  disso- 
lute dramas  of  Aphra  Behn  and  Nathaniel  Lee. 

It  is  not  strange  that  this  order  of  things  re- 
quired nothing  less  than  the  Great  Rebellion  of 
1688,  to  nulhfy,  in  part  at  least,  its  baneful  influ- 
ence and  institute  a  new  and  better  order.  The 
substitution  of  the  House  of  Orange  for  the  Stuart 
Dynasty  was  not  only  the  substitution  of  limited 
monarchy  for  absolutism,  of  Protestantism  for  Ro- 
manism, and  of  mental  freedom  for  mental  bond- 
age, but  it  was  the  introduction  of  an  entirely  new 
spirit  in  literature,  and,  thus,  of  a  distinctively 
preparative  literary  movement,  as  the  later  century 
approached.  Even  the  Orange  dramatists  felt  its 
influence,  while  the  protestations  of  Collier  became, 
at  length,  so  effective  that  authors  and  actors  alike 
were  placed  under  bonds  to  keep  within  the  limits 
of  moral  propriety.  Dryden  himself  acknowledged 
the  substantial  truth  of  the  charges  against  him, 
and,  in  the  two  years  of  his  life  yet  remaining,  did 
what  he  could  to  redeem  his  record  and  that  of  the 
age  which  he  represented.  In  the  closing  year  of 
the  century,  1700,  Dryden  died,  and  the  Restora- 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare        109 

tion  drama  passed  into  history.  The  way  was  now 
fully  opened  for  the  Augustan  Era  and  the  Eng- 
lish Drama  of  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

THE    EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY    DRAMA 

In  SO  far  as  time  is  concerned,  this  period  ex- 
tends from  the  opening  of  Queen  Anne's  reign,  in 
1702,  well  on  toward  the  close  of  the  reign  of 
George  III.,  its  actual  ending  in  1820  taking  us 
well  into  the  first  quarter  of  the  century  following. 
Hence,  we  notice,  at  the  outset,  that,  in  so  far 
as  the  drama  is  concerned,  much  of  the  activity 
of  the  Stuart  Era  proper  passed  over  into  the 
eighteenth  century,  such  dramatists  as  Wycher- 
ley,  and  Gibber,  and  Vanbrugh,  and  Farquhar,  and 
Rowe  producing  plays  within  each  era,  thus  serv- 
ing to  connect  the  drama  of  the  two  centuries. 
This  is  especially  true  as  to  English  Gomedy.  As 
Ward  states  it,  "  Both  what  was  weakest  and  what 
was  brightest  in  the  English  Gomedy  of  the 
Eighteenth  Gentury  already  existed  in  the  Seven- 
teenth." Hence,  it  is  urged,  "  that  Goldsmith  has 
a  predecessor  in  Farquhar,  and  that  Sheridan  is 
but  the  legitimate  successor  of  Gongreve  and  the 
adopter  of  Vanbrugh,"  the  rise  of  Sentimental 
Comedy,   as   fairly   attributed   both   to    Steele   and 


110  General  Discussions 

Cibber,  finding  thus  its  rightful  place  in  the  period 
preceding. 

No  student  of  this  era  can  fail  to  note  the  dra- 
matic influence  of  Dryden,  in  the  sphere  of  comedy, 
the  acknowledged  leader  of  the  Stuart  Era.  In  so 
far  as  tragedy  is  concerned,  these  conclusions  must 
be  modified,  the  tragic  excellence  of  the  Age  of 
Dryden  finding  no  worthy  successor  nor  parallel 
in  the  later  age.  "  The  tragedy  of  the  eighteenth 
century,"  writes  Saintsbury,  "  is  almost  beneath 
contempt,  being,  for  the  most  part,  a  faint  French 
echo  or  else  transpontine  melodrama,  with  a  few 
plaster-cast  attempts  to  reproduce  an  entirely  mis- 
understood Shakespeare."  Indeed,  it  may  be  said, 
that,  although  the  revival  of  interest  in  the  Shake- 
spearean drama,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  was 
mainly  due  to  the  agency  of  Dryden,  and,  though 
actors  such  as  Garrick  and  authors  such  as  Rowe 
and  Addison  did  what  they  could  to  reinstate  the 
influence  of  this  "  great  national  genius,"  still,  the 
drama  of  this  century,  especially  in  tragedy,  can- 
not be  said  even  to  remind  us  of  Shakespeare, 
either  in  content  or  spirit.  The  century  is,  in  no 
sense,  dramatic,  as  was  the  Elizabethan  or  even  the 
Stuart  Era.  From  the  very  opening  of  the  cen- 
tury^ literary  interests  assumed  other  and  more  ab- 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare        111 

sorbing  types,  partly  due  to  changes  in  political 
sentiment  and  social  life,  and  partly  to  a  decided 
decadence  of  dramatic  genius  itself.  If  we  seek 
for  the  causes  of  such  a  decadence,  we  note  that 
the  century  opened  as  a  distinctive  prose  era  in 
The-  Spectator  and  The  Tattler  and  similar  collec- 
tions, while,  within  the  province  of  poetry  itself, 
the  formal  school  of  Pope  was  engaging  the  chief 
attention  of  the  critics,  and  impressing  itself  upon 
the  literature  of  the  nation  at  large. 

Thus,  if  we  call  for  a  list  of  our  eighteenth- 
century  dramatists,  we  shall  be  surprised  to  find 
that  the  number  of  names,  all  told,  is  a  limited  one, 
while  that  of  the  masters  in  the  art  may  be  reduced 
to  here  and  there  a  name.  According  to  Schlegel, 
a  genius  of  the  first  rank  in  tragedy  did  not  ap- 
pear in  the  century.  ''  Why  has  this  revival  of 
the  admiration  of  Shakespeare,"  asks  Schlegel, 
"  remained  unproductive  for  dramatic  poetry,"  his 
suggestive  answer  being  "  that  he  has  been  too 
much  the  subject  of  astonishment,  as  an  unap- 
proachable genius  who  owed  everything  to  nature 
and  nothing  to  art."  "  Had  he  been  considered," 
he  adds,  "  more  from  an  artistic  point  of  view,  it 
would  have  led  to  an  endeavor  to  understand  the 
principles  which  he   followed  in  his  practice  and 


112  General  Discussions 

to  an  attempt  to  master  them."  The  causes  of  the 
absence  of  Shakespearean  genius  in  the  eighteenth 
century  He  deeper  down,  we  submit,  and  farther 
back  than  this  language  of  Schlegel's  would  argue. 
The  fact  of  its  absence  is,  however,  a  potent  one. 
Here  and  there  are  visible  traces  of  dramatic 
power,  sufficient  to  awaken  the  interest  of  the  in- 
quiring student  and  make  it  possible  for  him  to 
prophesy  the  near  appearance  of  a  better  day.  Not 
to  mention  the  names  of  those  already  cited  as 
properly  belonging  to  both  centuries,  such  as  Con- 
greve  and  Gibber,  we  note  the  names  of  Addison 
and  Steele,  and,  especially,  of  Goldsmith  and  Sher- 
idan, who  may  be  said  to  be  the  two  specially  dra- 
matic authors  of  the  century  proper,  the  dramatic 
translations  of  Goethe  and  Schiller  by  Scott  and 
Coleridge,  respectively,  and  the  dramatic  verse  of 
Byron  properly  belonging  to  the  succeeding  age. 
Of  the  dramatic  genius  of  Addison,  as  seen  in 
his  "  Cato,"  it  may  be  said,  that,  despite  the  favor 
with  which  the  tragedy  was  received  by  the  Au- 
gustan public,  it  cannot  justly  be  regarded  as 
reaching  anything  more  than  average  merit.  Pre- 
pared with  a  view  to  reinstate  classical  ideals  in 
English  verse  and,  yet,  prepared  amid  the  political 
agitations  of  the  time,  it  cannot  be  said  to  have 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare         113 

been  either  a  literary  or  a  political  success,  its  con- 
temporary repute  being  strangely  due  to  the  fact 
that  each  of  the  warring  factions  of  the  day,  the 
Whig  and  Tory,  insisted  on  claiming  it  as  an  ex- 
ponent of  its  party  principles,  a  tragedy  full,  as 
Ward  expresses  it,  of  ''  effective  commonplaces  " 
and  so  exalting  French  and  classical  models  in 
dramatic  composition  as  to  throw  discredit  on  the 
old  Elizabethan  models  and  thereby  serve  to  check 
that  Shakespearean  movement  in  whose  advance 
alone  the  future  excellence  of  the  English  drama 
was  to  lie.  With  Addison,  tragic  composition  was 
a  left-handed  and  an  unnatural  exercise,  his  gifts 
and  mission  lying  in  quite  other  literary  spheres. 

Of  Steele,  author  of  ''  The  Conscious  Lovers," 
"  the  first  English  comedy,"  according  to  Schlegel, 
"  that  can  be  called  moral,"  suffice  it  to  say,  that 
he  shares,  with  Gibber,  the  honor  of  having  intro- 
duced Sentimental  Comedy,  and,  with  Addison, 
the  honor  of  having  effectively  rebuked  the  liter- 
ary immorality  of  the  age. 

Goldsmith's  dramatic  work  was  not  the  ablest 
part  of  his  product  as  a  writer.  Author  of  "  The 
Good-natured  Man,"  of  which  he  himself  was  a 
signal  example,  and  of  the  still  abler  composition 
"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  it  is  just  to  say  that 


114  General  Discussions 

each  of  them  is  a  worthy  expression  of  English 
comedy,  and  holds  its  place  even  yet  in  general 
literary  esteem.  The  first  of  them,  according  to 
Johnson,  was  "  the  best  comedy  seen  on  the  Eng- 
lish stage  for  forty  years"  (1728-68),  while  the 
second,  according  to  Gosse,  is  *'  one  of  the  great 
comedies  of  the  world."  What  Goldsmith  did,  he 
did  with  high  motive  and  on  sound  literary  princi- 
ples. All  defects  conceded,  his  dramatic  work  is 
far  above  the  average  of  his  time,  and  may  justly 
be  cited  in  connection  with  that  of  Sheridan,  the 
leading  dramatic  exponent  of  the  time ;  author  of 
"  The  Rivals,"  written  at  twenty-two,  and  of  "  The 
School  for  Scandal,"  written  at  twenty-four ;  known 
among  critics  "  as  the  best  existing  English  com- 
edy of  intrigue,"  each  of  them  being  still  in  favor 
on  the  boards  of  the  English  and  the  American 
theater.  Based  on  the  best  examples  of  Restora- 
tion Comedy,  and  on  such  a  model  as  Moliere,  they 
justly  remind  us  of  Elizabethan  traditions,  and 
justify  a  hopeful  outlook  into  the  following  cen- 
tury. 

THE    NINETEENTH-CENTURY    DRAMA 

This  is  a  period  so  recent  that  but  little  need  be 
said  as  to  its  type  and  merits.     This  much,  how- 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare         115 

ever,  may  be  safely  ventured,  that  it  cannot  be 
called  a  high  order  of  drama,  despite  the  fact 
that  a  goodly  number  of  workers  have  been  busy 
throughout  the  century,  so  that  the  dramatic  prod- 
uct is  by  no  means  limited.  As  Saintsbury  states 
it,  "  There  has  always  been  something  out  of  joint 
with  English  nineteenth-century  tragedy."  The 
same  might  be  said  of  comedy.  The  drama  is 
academic  and  artificial,  rather  than  popular  and 
natural,  and  the  spontaneous  expression  of  native 
genius,  the  "  mere  by-work  "  of  most  of  the  poets, 
and  not  their  legitimate  literary  calling.  From  the 
fact  of  the  high  esteem  in  which  such  a  secondary 
dramatist  as  Knowles  was  held,  it  may  be  argued 
that  the  critical  standard  was  lamentably  low,  that 
tragedies  and  comedies  devoid  of  dramatic  impulse 
and  vigor  were  classified  as  representative.  This 
inferiority  is  somewhat  remarkable  when  we  re- 
call, as  has  been  suggested,  the  large  number  of 
English  poets  of  the  last  century  who  were  dra- 
matic authors, —  Byron,  author  of  "  Cain  "  ;  Shel- 
ley, in  his  "  Prometheus  Unbound  " ;  Coleridge,  in 
his  "  Fall  of  Robespierre  "  ;  Southey,  in  "  Sappho  "  ; 
Bulwer,  in  "  RicheHeu  "  ;  Landor,  in  "  Roderic  "  ; 
Matthew  Arnold,  in  "  Empedocles  on  Etna " ; 
Browning,  in  his  Monologues ;  Mrs.  Browning,  in 


116  General  Discussions 

her  renderings  of  "  Euripides "  and  "  Prome- 
theus" ;  Scott,  in  his  translation  of  Goethe;  and 
Tennyson,  in  his  several  dramatic  productions; 
while  to  these  may  be  added  the  names  of  authors 
now  working  among  us.  Here  is  a  wide  variety 
and  volume  of  effort,  suggesting  a  favorable  com- 
parison with  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  and  yet  a  liv- 
ing critic,  with  this  product  before  him,  affirms  of 
Browning's  "  Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon,"  that  it  is  the 
one  play  of  the  century  which  shows  any  tragic 
vigor  in  its  central  part.  Of  these  poets  it  may  be 
said,  without  exception,  that  they  were  dramatic 
writers  without  being  dramatists;  that  their  plays 
were  delineative,  and  not  essentially  dramatic; 
that  some  of  them,  as  Browning,  wrote  mono- 
logues or  monodramas  only;  that  others,  such  as 
Scott,  translated  dramas,  and  that  others  still,  as 
Landor  and  Shelley,  failed  to  apprehend  aright  the 
structural  side  of  this  order  of  verse.  It  is  thus 
that  we  read  "  that  Byron's  tragedies  are  not  the 
worst  part  of  his  work  " ;  that  "  Scott  had  no  dra- 
matic faculty  " ;  that  "  Shelley's  '  Cenci '  is  not  act- 
able " ;  and  that  the  drama  of  the  century  as  a 
whole  lacks  the  quality  of  greatness.  These  are 
just  conclusions  when  the  reader  sits  down  to  find 


Dramatic  Verse  after  Shakespeare        117 

in  this  product  a  half-dozen  specimens  that  may 
faintly  remind  him  of  Marlowe  and  Jonson. 

The  comparative  failure  of  Tennyson  in  this 
field  is  sufficient  evidence  that  dramatic  genius  was 
not  one  of  the  gifts  of  the  gods  to  the  England  of 
his  day. 

CONTEMPORABY   BRITISH    DRAMA 

Of  the  Contemporary  British  Drama,  repre- 
sented in  Swinburne,  Austin,  Jones,  Phillips,  and 
others,  suffice  it  to  say,  that  it  has  merit,  though 
not  masterly  merit;  that,  while  indicating  an  ad- 
vance upon  the  later  Victorian  Era,  it  is  not  Eliza- 
bethan. The  strength  of  the  opening  century  lies 
elsewhere, —  in  lyric  verse,  as  of  old,  and,  es- 
pecially, in  historical,  critical,  and  philosophical 
prose.  Possibly,  under  conditions  as  yet  non- 
existent, English  verse  may  assume  epic  and  dra- 
matic eminence,  and  remind  us,  once  again,  of 
Milton  and  Shakespeare. 


VI 


THE  ROMANTIC  ELEMENT  IN  ELIZABETHAN 
LETTERS 

"  It  is  curious,"  writes  an  English  autBor,  "  to 
trace  the  gradual  transformation  of  historical  liter- 
ature. Its  earliest  type  is  invariably  mythical  or 
legendary  and  the  form  in  which  it  then  appears 
is  universally  poetical."  This  semi-historical,  or 
romantic  feature,  as  we  shall  call  it,  forms  an  im- 
portant one  at  the  very  origin  of  English  poetry 
as  national  in  the  days  of  Chaucer  and  is  visible 
in  marked  expression  in  the  Golden  Age  of  Eng- 
lish Prose  and  Verse,  and  even  later  still  as  the 
history  develops.  If  we  look  for  the  explanation 
of  its  presence  in  Elizabethan  days,  it  is  not  far  to 
find.  This  opening  era  of  our  literature  came  so 
early  in  our  national  history  as  modern,  and  came, 
in  some  respects,  so  suddenly,  and  in  such  pro- 
nounced fullness  of  literary  product,  that  there 
was  scarcely  time  for  the  gradual  transition  from 
the  pre-Elizabethan  and  somewhat  unsettled  type 
to  later  and  more  settled  forms.  Though  the  age  in 
its  mental  and  literary  excellence  expressed  in  one 
sense  the  maximum  of  maturity,  the  well-developed 
118 


Romanticism   in   ElizabetlKm   Letters      119 

manhood  of  the  nation,  in  another  sense  the  Eng- 
Hsh  people  were  as  yet  but  in  the  freshness  and 
buoyancy  of  youth,  and  thus  in  fullest  sympathy 
with  that  spirit  of  romance  so  germane  to  the 
earlier  years  of  national  life  and  letters.  No  stu- 
dent can  rightly  read  the  literature  of  the  sixteenth 
century  save  as  he  bears  this  cardinal  fact  in  mind, 
that  he  is  dealing  with  a  period  that  expresses,  in 
one  and  the  same  literary  product,  the  marks  of 
maturity  and  immaturity,  of  fact  and  fancy,  of  his- 
tory and  poetry,  of  legend  and  myth,  as  also  of 
science,  philosophy,  and  didactic  verse.  Indeed,  it 
is  just  here  that  we  find  one  of  the  peculiar  charms 
of  this  particular  period,  not  found,  to  any  such 
extent,  in  any  later  era,  as  the  Augustan  or  Geor- 
gian, in  each  of  which  more  stable  and  practical 
Svocial  conditions  tend  to  make  the  literature  more 
and  more  realistic.  The  Elizabethan  Age  is  the 
Golden  Age  of  Romance  as  well  as  of  Reality,  and 
of  these  in  organic  and  national  union,  so  that  we 
are  saved  from  both  extremes  —  that  of  the  merely 
prosaic  and  the  merely  poetic.  Despite  all  the  sub- 
stantial literary  productions  of  the  century,  such 
as  Bacon's  "Advancement  of  Learning,"  Hooker's 
"  Ecclesiastical  Polity,"  or  Shakespeare's  Historical 
Plays,  —  productions,    indeed,   on   which   the   lat^r 


120  General  Discussions 

superstructure  of  our  literature  mainly  rests,  —  we 
cannot  escape  the  conviction  that  we  are  here  in  a 
kind  of  fairy-land,  where  our  imagination  may 
have  fullest  play,  and,  yet,  without  danger  of  pass- 
ing out  beyond  the  credible  and  sensible. 

A  study  of  the  special  evidences  and  effects  of 
this  Romantic  feature  will  be  found  to  be  of  inter- 
est. These  evidences  are  mainly  found  in  what 
we  may  call  the  Reproduction  of  the  Medievalism, 
the  transference,  in  varied  literary  forms,  of  the 
legendary  element  of  the  centuries  just  succeeding 
the  Conquest  to  the  sixteenth  century  of  English 
history.  In  prose  and  verse  alike,  —  in  epic  and 
play  and  ballad  and  story,  —  in  philosophy  and  his- 
tory, and,  even,  in  translations  and  criticisms  and 
extended  theological  discussion,  this  love  of  the 
new  and  the  striking  is  seen,  and  an  added  attract- 
iveness thereby  given  to  them  all.  It  was  a  time 
when  the  dramatists,  as  Shakespeare  and  his  able 
contemporaries,  were  seeking,  by  every  legitimate 
device,  to  set  forth  old  truths  in  their  original  and 
most  impressive  and  picturesque  forms.  Nor  was 
this  ideal  confined  to  the  dramatists.  Bacon,  as  a 
philosopher,  was  desirous  of  propounding  a  new 
method  of  intellectual  inquiry,  both  In  physical  and 
metaphysical    spheres ;    and    the    "  Novum    Orga- 


Romanticism   in  Elizabethan   Letters       121 

num  "  appeared.  The  epic  and  lyric  poets  sought 
to  give  to  the  new  world  of  England  a  graphic 
picture  of  the  old,  so  as  to  make  it  a  new  world  to 
them.  Travelers  and  historians  were  not  content 
to  hold  themselves  to  the  strict  details  of  the  his- 
toric record,  but  gave  their  historic  imaginations 
free  scope  in  the  statement  and  explanation  of  na- 
tional events.  In  fine,  Elizabethan  literature,  as  a 
unified  product,  is  itself  the  clearest  evidence  of 
Romanticism  in  external  form,  of  the  real  chiv- 
alric  spirit  in  authors  and  authorship.  If  we  seek 
for  concrete  examples  of  the  presence  of  this  ele- 
ment, it  will  not  be  difiicult  to  cite  works  and 
writers  who  signally  evince  it.  We  see  it  in  Spen- 
ser's "  Faerie  Queene,"  as  an  allegory  of  human 
life  and  destiny ;  in  Lyly's  "  Euphues  and  his  Eng- 
land," where  ethical  truths  are  delineated  in  imag- 
inative form;  in  Sidney's  "Arcadia,"  so  replete  with 
legend  and  fancy ;  in  Raleigh's  "  History  of  the 
World,"  so  marked  by  the  speculative  element  as 
to  make  it  an  historical  romance ;  in  Bacon's  "  New 
Atlantis,"  which  Rawley,  his  biographer,  rightly 
calls  *'  a  fable  " ;  in  Sackville's  "  Mirror  of  Magis- 
trates," in  which  a  portion  of  Dante's  significant 
imagery  is  used  to  set  forth  the  misfortunes  of 
some  of   England's   illustrious   men ;   and  even   in 


122  General  Discussions 

Burton's  "Anatomy  of  Melancholy,"  wherein  the 
most  serious  discussions  are  so  presented  through 
the  medium  "  of  quaint  and  curious  lore  "  that  the 
volume  might  well  be  called,  The  Anatomy  of  Ab- 
surdity, —  a  serio-comic  survey  of  human  nature 
and  life.  The  Metrical  Chronicles  of  the  age 
afford  an  illustration  of  this  imaginative  spirit 
scarcely  second  to  the  poetry.  In  Hakluyt's  '*  Voy- 
ages "  and  Purchas's  *'  Pilgrims,"  in  Stow's  ''An- 
nals of  England "  and  Camden's  "  Britannia,"  in 
Smith's  "  General  History  of  Virginia,"  and  in 
Froissart,  Fabyan,  Hall,  and  Holinshed,  the  poetic 
element  is  so  mingled  with  the  prose,  the  pictorial 
with  the  didactic,  as  to  lend  to  the  annals  some- 
thing of  the  picturesqueness  of  romance,  and  to 
lead  the  reader  to  forget  that  he  is  in  the  province 
of  history  proper.  The  era  was  full  of  myth  and 
marvel ;  of  folk-lore  and  fairy-tales ;  of  pageants 
and  revels  and  attractive  traditions.  It  was  a  ver- 
itable Paradise  of  Dainty  Devices.  Travelers  from 
Europe  and  the  East  swelled  the  sum-total  of  this 
record  of  adventure,  and  thus  did,  in  Elizabeth's 
time,  what  Sir  John  Mandeville  did  for  the  four- 
teenth century.  What  was  not  seen  was  imagined. 
No  story  of  travel  was  left  untold  simply  by  want 
of  date  and  fact  to  substantiate  it     The  result,  of 


Romanticism    in   Elizabethan   Letters       123 

course,  was  a  semi-mythical  body  of  literature, 
made  up  of  a  combination  of  English  and  Conti- 
nental traditions,  so  that,  as  we  read,  we  are  re- 
minded of  William  of  Malmesbury;  of  Geoffrey 
of  Monmouth ;  of  Layamon,  and  of  Robert  of 
Gloucester ;  of  Lydgate  and  Malory ;  of  the  "  Chan- 
son de  Roland,"  of  the  "  Roman  de  la  Rose  "  and 
"Amadis  de  Gaul " ;  of  Ariosto  and  Tasso  and 
Ronsard  and  Cervantes,  —  in  fine,  of  all  preceding 
books  and  authors,  where  fact  and  fancy  contend 
for  supremacy,  and  where,  at  the  end,  fancy  con- 
trols. Frobisher  and  Drake  and  Sir  Walter  Ra- 
leigh were,  in  these  respects,  the  authorities  of  the 
day.  As  later  in  the  history  of  our  letters,  at  the 
opening  of  what  is  distinctively  called  the  Roman- 
tic Era,  so  now.  Old  EngHsh  ballads  and  songs 
were  revived,  and  the  days  of  the  Scottish  Border 
Minstrelsy  were  anticipated  by  a  century.  Indeed, 
the  Elizabethan  Age,  thus  interpreted,  is  our  first 
Romantic  Era,  so  pronounced  and  typical,  that 
when  Fox  wrote  his  "  Martyrology  "  he  evinced  it; 
when  Sidney  and  Webbe  and  Puttenham  wrote  on 
the  Art  of  Verse  they  evinced  it.  In  fact,  the 
"  judicious  "  Hooker,  who  was  contending  against 
the  stout  opposition  of  the  Reformers  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  Anglican  ecclesiastical  polity,  was 


124:  General  Discussions 

almost  the  only  author  of  note  whose  writings  are 
devoid  of  this  semi-historical  element.  It  need  not 
be  said  that  poetry,  and  especially  the  drama,  was 
suffused  with  this  imaginative  quality.  It  is  seen 
in  Shakespeare  not  only  in  "A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream,"  "  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,"  "All's  Well 
that  Ends  Well,"  and  "The  Winter's  Tale,"  but 
in  such  dramas  as  "  The  Tempest "  and  "  Mac- 
beth," and  even  in  the  historical  plays,  such  as 
"  Henry  the  Eighth."  As  has  been  said  by  Moul- 
ton,  "  Romances  are  the  raw  material  out  of  which 
the  Shakespearean  drama  is  manufactured."  It  is 
known  as  the  "  Romantic  Drama,  one  of  its  chief 
distinctions  being  that  it  uses  the  stories  of  Ro- 
mance, together  with  histories  treated  as  story- 
books, as  the  sources  from  which  the  matter  of  the 
Plays  is  taken."  The  dramatization  of  the  stories 
constituted  one  of  the  expressions  of  Shakespeare's 
genius.  So,  among  his  contemporaries  we  find  a 
similar  pictorial  type.  "  Spenser,"  says  Mr.  Brooke, 
"  reflected  in  his  poems  the  romantic  spirit  of  the 
English  Renaissance,"  to  which  we  may  add,  that 
sixteenth-century  verse  as  a  whole  reflected  it. 

If  we  accept  Brooke's  fourfold  division  of  La- 
ter Elizabethan  Verse,  —  "  that  of  Love,  Patriot- 
ism,   Reflection,    and    Struggle,"  —  this    symbolic 


Romanticism   in  Elisahethcm   Letters      125 

feature  appears  in  each.  The  age  of  the  Revival 
of  Learning  was,  also,  an  age  of  the  Revival  of 
Myth  and  Legend.  The  Reformation  of  the  six- 
teenth century  was  far  more  than  a  Protestant  re- 
action against  Roman  Catholicism.  It  was,  also,  a 
reinvestment  of  much  that  was  old  with  new  life 
and  more  attractive  form,  a  poetizing,  in  a  sense, 
the  entire  content  of  contemporary  literature.  One 
signal  reason  why  the  drama  was  so  prominent  in 
this  age  is  found  in  the  fact  that  it,  above  all  other 
forms  of  verse,  was  able  to  combine  the  medieval 
and  the  modern,  the  classical  and  the  native,  the- 
romantic  and  the  realistic,  in  such  wise  that  the 
literary  product  was  seen  to  be  unique  and  com- 
plete. No  form  of  prose  could  do  it,  nor  could  the 
epic  with  its  narrative  groundwork  do  it  so  suc- 
cessfully. The  drama  only  could  do  it,  while 
within  the  province  of  the  drama  itself,  it  was  re- 
served for  the  genius  of  Shakespeare  to  effect  the 
fusion  so  completely  as  to  establish  his  dramatic 
rank  as  supreme,  so  that  the  most  acute  dramatic 
critic  cannot  yet  distinguish  the  romantic  from  the 
real  in  Shakespearean  art.  The  union  is  indis- 
soluble. One  of  the  most  interesting  expressions 
of  this  Romanticism  is  seen  in  the  new  impulse 
that  it  gave  to  the  production  of  Lyric  Verse,  if, 


126  General  Discussions 

indeed,  it  did  not  directly  induce  it,  as  one  of  the 
characteristic  forms  of  modern  poetry.  Mr.  Sym- 
onds,  in  his  "  Essays,  Speculative  and  Suggestive," 
writes  of  the  Elizabethan  period,  "After  the  drama 
and  closely  associated  with  it  came  those  songs  for 
music  in  which  the  English  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury excelled."  He  speaks  of  them  as  "  a  copious 
and  splendid  lyric,"  and  contends  that  the  later 
lyrists  of  Georgian  and  Victorian  days,  though 
naturally  surpassing  their  predecessors,  were  not 
unwilling  to  acknowledge  their  indebtedness  to 
•these  earlier  idyllists.  The  spirit  of  the  time  was 
favorable  to  such  an  order  of  verse.  It  was,  by 
way  of  emphasis,  the  age  of  life  and  sentiment, 
when  thought  and  feeling  and  varied  activity  were 
inseparably  blended,  the  Golden  Age  of  man  and 
human  hopes.  No  age  before  or  since  has  been 
more  signally  marked  by  spontaneity  —  mental 
and  literary,  personal  and  national.  The  era  of 
restriction  and  intellectual  servility  had  given  way 
to  a  new  and  wider  order,  and  the  result  was,  as  a 
recent  critic  has  expressed  it,  "  that  each  man 
wrote  .  .  .  out  of  himself  and  sang  spontaneously." 
All  this  was  in  the  direct  line  of  lyrical  expression, 
as  the  poetry  of  human  sentiment,  of  imagination 
in  life  and  letters.     When  Whittier  sings  of  "  the 


Romanticism   in   Elizabethan   Letters       127 

spacious  times  of  great  Elizabeth,"  his  reference 
is  to  this  broadening  of  the  bonds  of  thought  and 
Hfe,  whereby  the  best  energies  of  the  poets  were 
enfranchised,  and  a  "  copious  lyric "  naturally  is- 
sued. It  was  an  age  of  ideals,  of  impassioned 
activity;  of  ambition  and  aspiration  and  bold  ad- 
venture ;  in  a  word,  of  romanticism,  safely  guarded 
and  guided,  as  it  was,  by  the  more  practical  and 
stable  elements  of  the  era.  Such  are  some  of  the 
evidences  of  this  mythical,  semi-historical  trend 
and  temper  in  the  opening  century  of  modern  Eng- 
lish, by  reason  of  which  what  Hazlitt  calls  the 
"  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  "  can  never 
entirely  lose  its  attractiveness.  As  radically  as  our 
literature  may  change  as  the  centuries  go  by,  this 
earlier  age  will  never  lose  its  hold  upon  us  by  rea- 
son of  this  pronounced  romantic  element.  A  fur- 
ther question  here  emerges  as  to  the  effects,  im- 
mediate and  remote,  of  this  specific  element. 

One  of  the  first  and  most  distinctive  results  of 
this  Romantic  Type  and  Movement  appears  in  the 
new  interest  that  was  at  once  imparted  thereby  to 
the  literature  of  the  Elizabethan  Age.  The  thought- 
ful and  practical  Roger  Ascham  was  setting  forth 
wholesome  truth  in  the  pages  of  his  "  Toxophilus  " 
and  "  Schoolmaster  " ;  Knox  and  Fox  and  Jewell 


128  General  Discussions 

were  writing  on  behalf  of  ecclesiastical  and  civil 
reform ;  the  sedate  Richard  Hooker  was  stoutly 
defending  the  doctrine  and  polity  of  the  estab- 
lished church;  Chapman  was  busy  in  his  transla- 
tion of  the  classical  authors,  while  Bacon  was 
penning  histories  and  miscellanies  and  systems  of 
philosophy  for  the  widening  of  the  bounds  of  hu- 
man knowledge.  All  this  was  prosaic  and  didactic 
in  its  type  —  an  educational  method  of  authorship 
in  an  age  of  high  intellectual  ability.  Just  here, 
this  specifically  attractive  romantic  element  entered 
to  infuse  a  new  and  more  vivacious  spirit  into  the 
developing  literature,  so  as  to  make  that  readable 
and  popular  which  in  itself  was  only  substantial 
and  instructive.  Fairy-tales  and  sonnets  of  pure 
sentiment  now  appeared  in  close  connection  with 
weightier  authorship  and,  often,  from  one  and  the 
same  author.  The  wits  and  satirists  and  play- 
wrights of  the  period  wrote  tragedies  and  come- 
dies under  the  influence  of  this  freer  and  more 
adventurous  spirit.  When  Spenser  wrote  his  "  View 
of  the  Present  State  of  Ireland,"  though  he  penned 
it  in  prose,  he  did  it  so  as  to  give  it  the  semi- 
historical  cast  and  effect.  The  theme  itself  was 
suggestive  of  the  legendary  and  marvelous  as  well 
as  of  the  historical,  and  was  thus  but  a  representa- 


Romanticism   in   Elizabethan   Letters       129 

tive  example  of  those  multiplied  topics  of  the  time 
which  seemed  to  lie,  in  part,  at  least,  within  the 
province  of  the  mythical.  Elizabethan  literature 
for  this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  cannot  be  said  to  be 
dull  or  devoid  of  the  popular  factor.  It  will  al- 
ways be  what  Matthew  Arnold  insists  every  liter- 
ature should  be  —  "interesting-,"  sufficiently  so  to 
awaken  and  hold  the  intelligent  attention  of  every 
fair-minded  reader.  Though  it  was  the  age  of 
Euphuism  with  its  affectations  and  forced  conceits, 
these  exaggerations  were  confined  to  Lyly  and  the 
secondary  authors;  their  presence  in  Spenser  and 
Bacon  and  Jonson  and  Shakespeare  being  so  ex- 
ceptional as  scarcely  to  admit  of  serious  mention. 
An  additional  result  of  this  Romanticism  is 
found  in  the  large  supply  of  literary  material  it 
afforded  to  the  authors  of  this  and  subsequent  eras. 
What  we  might  well  call  the  "  capital  stock "  of 
English  letters  was  thus  greatly  increased.  From 
Greece  and  Italy,  from  Spain  and  the  Orient,  much 
of  this  mythical  material  came,  and,  though 
often  in  crude  and  ill-assorted  forms,  came  when 
it  was  most  needed.  One  of  the  tests  of  the  classi- 
fication of  the  authors  of  the  day  is  found  in  the 
genius  and  lack  of  genius  to  utilize  this  wealth  of 
subject-matter  offered  at  hand.     Even  of  Shake- 


130  General  Discussions 

speare  it  has  been  held  by  the  most  severe  criticism 
that  his  superiority  to  his  contemporaries  lay  as 
much  in  the  masterly  manner  in  which  he  utilized 
such  existing  material  as  in  the  absolute  origina- 
tion of  such  material.  To  the  inferior  order  of 
mind  this  accumulated  mass  of  legend  and  story 
and  song  seemed  to  be  but  a  useless  collection  of 
unconnected  data,  the  disjecta  membra  of  older  lit- 
eratures and  civilizations.  The  England  of  the  six- 
teenth century  was  a  kind  of  national  receptacle 
for  all  the  floating  data,  authentic  and  unauthentic, 
that  Europe  and  the  East  had  to  offer.  No  small 
amount  of  that  literary  treasure  which  makes  up 
what  is  known  as  the  Golden  Age  was  thus  the 
free-will  offering  of  the  nations  and  was  so  rich 
and  copious  a  legacy  as  still  to  be  of  service. 
Writers  of  the  Victorian  Age,  such  as  the  Brown- 
ings and  Morris  and  Tennyson,  have  drawn  at  will 
from  these  same  prolific  sources  and  the  centuries 
are  thus  united.  As  the  philosophers  direct  us 
back  to  Kant,  so  Milton  and  his  successors  bid  us 
look  back  to  the  days  of  the  Virgin  Queen  for  sug- 
gestion and  inspiration  and  attractive  literary  capi- 
tal. Were  this  imaginative  element  to  be  eliminated 
from  the  prose  and  verse  of  the  period,  much  of 
its  charm  and  power  would  disappear.     The  fact 


Romanticism   in   Elizaheihan    Letters       131 

that  the  authorship  of  the  Shakespearean  drama 
is,  still,  in  many  minds  an  open  question,  lends  ad- 
ditional romance  to  a  century  already  marked  by 
the  historico-legendary  feature. 

A  more  specific  result  of  this  romantic  element 
is  found  in  the  beginnings  of  English  prose  fiction, 
in  romance  proper,  as  a  distinctive  form  of  litera- 
ture. It  is  not  now  in  place  to  open  the  discussion 
as  to  the  exact  historical  origin  of  the  English 
novel.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  generally  assigned 
date  of  its  first  appearance  in  the  writings  of 
Daniel  Defoe,  in  the  opening  years  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  must  be  received  with  modification. 
Though  it  is,  in  a  sense,  true  in  the  light  of  the 
most  technical  definition  of  the  novel,  as  a  product 
of  high  literary  merit,  it  will  be  found  that  if  the 
phrase  "  prose  fiction  "  be  interpreted  in  a  larger 
and  somewhat  allowable  sense,  as  the  expression 
of  romanticism  in  prose,  the  beginning  must  be 
found  far  earlier  in  our  literary  history,  specific- 
ally, in  Sidney's  "Arcadia,"  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. Whatever  else  it  is  or  is  not,  it  is  certainly 
a  romance.  As  we  learn  from  Ben  Jonson's  remark 
to  Drummond,  its  author  intended  to  make  it  a 
pure  English  romance,  with  King  Arthur  as  its 
hero.     If,  as  Stigant  asserts,  Sidney  "  was  the  first 


132  General  Discussions 

writer  of  good  English  prose,"  we  have  the  origin 
of  English  prose  and  English  fiction  in  one  and  the 
same  author  and  book.  As  we  have  seen,  the  spirit 
of  the  age  was  friendly  to  fiction.  Just  as  Spenser, 
instead  of  writing  an  epic,  as  Milton  did  later, 
wrote,  in  keeping  with  the  time,  a  Metrical  Ro- 
mance, so,  Sidney  naturally  subordinated  history 
to  legend,  and  did  for  England  what  Lope  de  Vega 
and  Sannazaro  in  their  "Arcadias  "  did  for  South- 
western Europe.  Musidorus,  Prince  of  Thessalea; 
Pyrocles,  Prince  of  Macedon ;  the  shepherds  Clarus, 
Strephon,  Kalander,  Pamela,  and  Philoclea  stand 
forth  as  characters  as  clearly  as  Tom  Jones  and 
Pamela,  and,  in  their  way,  they  play  their  respective 
parts  as  well.  In  fact,  as  to  the  origin  of  fiction, 
some  have  plausibly  traced  it  to  Lyly's  "  Euphues 
and  his  England,"  a  decade  in  advance  of  the 
"Arcadia."  These  two  productions  are  singularly 
connected,  as  we  read  from  Symonds,  Sidney's 
biographer,  "  It  is  not  improbable  that  Lyly's  '  Eu- 
phues '  suggested  to  Sidney  the  notion  of  writing 
a  romance  in  a  somewhat  similar  style."  Even 
farther  back  than  this  have  the  critics  taken  us  to 
the  equally  romantic  days  of  Chaucer,  in  his  "  Tale 
of  Meliboeus,"  or  back  to  Malory's  Knights  of  the 
Round  Table,  in  1470,  and  More's  "Utopia,"  or 


Romanticism   in   Elizabethan   Letters       133 

Ideal  Commonwealth.  However  this  may  be,  fic- 
tion appeared  in  concrete  form  and  may  be  said  to 
lay  the  basis  for  all  subsequent  efforts  in  that  di- 
rection. ;  I     j  j 

A  question  of  special  interest  arises  here  as  to 
the  literary  and  logical  relations  of  dramatic  au- 
thorship and  fiction,  as  to  what  each  gives  to  the 
other  and  receives  from  it.  Victor  Hugo's  "  Les 
Miserables "  and  ''  Ninety-three "  are  dramas  in 
the  form  of  fiction,  while  Jonson's  "  Masques " 
and  Shakespeare's  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  " 
and  other  comedies  are  fiction  in  the  form  of 
dramas.  Eliminate  the  fictitious  or  romantic  ele- 
ment from  Milton's  "  Comus "  or  the  dramatic 
element  from  Cooper's  "  Spy "  and  an  essential 
literary  factor  is  taken  fropi  each.  Bulwer's  novel 
"  Harold  "  and  Tennyson's  drama  "  Harold  "  often 
meet  and  interact,  nor  can  the  point  where  the 
tragic  ends  and  the  narrative  begins  be  accurately 
discriminated  by  the  most  observing  eye.  Hence, 
the  fact  of  interest  as  to  the  age  before  us  is,  that 
each  alike,  the  drama  and  fiction,  expresses  the 
romantic  element  so  germane  to  the  time,  though 
expressing  it  in  different  form  and  measure.  The 
only  wonder  is,  that  in  a  period  so  full  of  the  spirit 
of   romanticism,  fiction   should   not  have   obtained 


134  General  Discussions 

a  firmer  footing,  a  partial  explanation  lying  in  the 
fact  that  it  dominates  prose  and  not  verse,  and.  that 
verse  was  the  natural  medium  in  which  this  half- 
historical  feature  best  expressed  itself.  Such,  in 
brief,  may  be  said  to  be  the  evidences  and  effects 
of  the  spirit  of  Romance  in  Elizabethan  letters, 
seen  in  poetry,  especially,  and  yet  in  all  the  forms 
of  literary  product. 

It  would  be  a  study  of  no  little  interest  to  mark 
the  presence  and  trace  the  gradual  historic  devel- 
opment of  this  romantic  feature  in  English  prose 
and  verse  after  the  time  of  Elizabeth.  If  we  have 
from  Cowley  didactic  essays  on  agriculture  and 
avarice,  we  have  semi-poetic  essays  on  what  he 
calls  "A  Discourse  by  Way  of  Vision  Concerning 
the  Government  of  Cromwell,"  as,  also,  his  pict- 
ure of  an  ideal  college,  in  his  essay  entitled  ''A 
Proposition  for  the  Advancement  of  Experimental 
Philosophy."  So,  in  Herrick's  "  Hesperides  " ;  in 
Walton's  "  Complete  Angler  " ;  in  Bunyan's  ''  Pil- 
grim's Progress  "  and  "  Holy  War  " ;  in  Swift's 
"Tale  of  a  Tub"  and  "Battle  of  the  Books." 
Even  in  philosophy  it  appears,  as  in  the  idealism 
of  Berkeley;  in  Defoe  and  the  later  novelists;  in 
all  English  folk-lore  unto  the  days  of  Tennyson, 
one  of  whose  poetic  triumphs  it  was  to  recall  the 


Romanticism   in   Elizaheihan   Letters       135 

Victorian  Age  to  the  times  of  King"  Arthur  and 
the  Round  Table,  and  so  connect  the  most  matter- 
of-fact  era  of  modern  letters  with  the  most  myth- 
ical era  of  the  past.  In  fact,  there  is  in  English 
letters  but  one  thing  more  real  than  realism,  and 
that  is  Romanticism,  the  innate  and  irrepressible 
tendency  to  give  to  imagery  the  essential  force 
of  fact,  to  reduce  history  itself  to  the  descriptive, 
pictorial,  and  representative. 


PART  SECOND 


SPECIAL  DISCUSSIONS 


EDMUND  SPENSER  AND  THE  ENGLISH 
REFORMATION 

A  TOPIC  of  this  character  is  a  striking  example 
of  the  relation  of  literature  to  history,  civil  and 
ecclesiastical.  In  fact,  so  closely  connected  are 
these  different  provinces  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
that  it  would  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  sep- 
arate them  so  as  to  state  just  where  either  of  them 
begins  or  ends,  or  just  where  civil  history  as  dis- 
tinct from  ecclesiastical  affects  the  developing  lit- 
erature. We  speak  of  the  historical  plays  of 
Shakespeare,  and  yet  they  are  distinctively  literary, 
just  as  his  literary  tragedies,  such  as  "  Hamlet " 
and  "  King  Lear,"  have  a  decided  historical  ele- 
ment. Bacon  wrote  a  "  History  of  Henry  the 
Seventh  "  as  a  literary  author,  as  did  Raleigh,  ''A 
History  of  the  World."  So  did  Hooker,  in  his 
"  Ecclesiastical  Polity,"  evince  the  close  relations 
of  the  history  of  the  English  Church  to  Eliza- 
bethan letters ,  while  Spenser  and  his  school  illus- 
trated in  all  their  verse  the  same  affinity  between 
139 


140  Special  Discussions 

the  authorship  of  the  time  and  the  pubHc  life  of 
the  nation.  The  appHcation  of  this  historico- 
Hterary  principle  as  it  relates  to  Spenser  and  the 
Reformation  is  full  of  interest,  alike  to  the  stu- 
dent of  letters  and  of  Christian  doctrine  and  polity. 
The  broader  question  would  be,  the  Relation  of 
Elizabethan  Literature  as  a  whole  to  the  English 
Reformation.  The  narrower  and  yet  sufficiently 
comprehensive  question,  as  we  have  stated  it,  will 
enable  us  to  see  the  religious  character  and  beliefs 
of  Spenser,  and  also  to  see  those  generic  and  basal 
principles  that  controlled  the  Reformation,  and 
that  have  given  it  a  permanent  place  in  English 
literary  history. 

It  need  scarcely  be  stated,  by  way  of  preface, 
that,  personally,  Spenser  was  a  Christian  man  and 
author.  This  is  seen  in  all  his  writings,  in  their 
text  and  spirit,  and  may  be  said  to  form  the  con- 
trolling undertone  of  them  all.  From  his  "  Shep- 
herd's Calendar  "  to  "  The  Faerie  Queene  "  we 
find  him  intent  on  doing  good,  in  his  verse  and 
prose.  The  expressed  purpose  of  his  longest 
poem,  "  to  form  a  noble  and  virtuous  gentleman," 
is  the  implied  purpose  of  every  other  longer  or 
shorter  poem.  It  is  thus  that  Lowell  writes  of 
"  The  Faerie  Queene  " :  "  No  man  can  read  it  and 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      141 

be  anything  but  the  better  for  it.  Through  that 
rude  age,  when  maids  of  honor  drank  beer  be- 
fore breakfast,  and  Hamlet  could  say  a  gross 
thing  to  Ophelia,  he  passes  serenely  abstracted 
and  high,  the  Don  Quixote  of  poets."  In  speaking 
of  his  character,  Lowell  further  writes,  "  that  with 
a  purity  like  that  of  thrice-bolted  snow,  he  had 
none  of  its  coldness,  and  that,  often  *  sensuous,' 
as  Milton  would  say,  he  was  never  sensual."  It  is 
noticeable,  that,  in  so  far  as  he  had  access  to 
French  and  Italian  sources,  as  Chaucer  did,  as  in 
his  "Amoretti "  and  his  "  Visions,"  he  modified, 
even  more  than  Chaucer,  .the  grossness  of  the  orig- 
inal, so  as  to  deprive  it  of  its  objectionable  fea- 
tures, and  make  it  attractive  to  every  high-minded 
reader.  To  speak  of  an  expurgated  Spenser,  as 
we  do  of  an  expurgated  Shakespeare  or  Byron, 
would  be  as  strange  as  to  be  put  on  our  guard 
against  the  full  text  of  Milton  or  of  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing. 

In  noting  Spenser's  specific  attitude  toward  the 
Reformation,  we  may  emphasize  three  distinct  re- 
lations. 

1.  First  of  all,  his  attitude  tozvard  the  Class- 
ical Paganism  of  the  time.  This  paganism  was 
expressed  in  the  form  of  religious  indifference  or 


142  Special  Discussions 

of  opposition  to  all  Christian  systems  and  faiths; 
sometimes,  in  the  form  of  pronounced  atheism, 
and  always  as  at  war  with  the  leading  principles 
and  purposes  of  the  Reformation.  Mr.  Whipple 
conveys  a  wrong  impression  when  he  speaks  of 
"  The  Faerie  Queene  "  as  "  socially  blending  Chris- 
tian and  pagan  beliefs."  These  differing  beliefs 
are,  indeed,  found  side  by  side  in  the  poem,  but 
not  "  socially  blended,"  as  if  the  one  were  as  ten- 
able and  praiseworthy  as  the  other.  They  are 
brought  together  for  the  author's  temporary  pur- 
pose in  the  allegory,  and  rather  to  show  by  con- 
trast the  true  character  of  each. 

In  speaking  of  the  English  Reformation,  it  must 
always  be  remembered,  that  it  occurred  just  at  the 
time  when  there  was  a  decided  classical,  and  hence 
a  pagan,  revival.  We  speak  of  the  Revival  of 
Learning,  and  correctly  so;  but  it  was,  as  we 
know,  a  revival  of  classical  learning,  of  the  litera- 
ture and  language  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  with 
these,  by  necessity,  a  revival  of  the  old  pagan  the- 
ologies and  philosophies  and  ethical  standards. 
The  introduction  of  printing  into  England,  in  1477, 
made  it  possible  to  render  into  English  the  pagan 
authors.  Much  of  the  work  that  Caxton  did  was 
naturally  in  this  direction,  in  that  the  amount  of 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      143 

representative  English  literature  was  then  com- 
paratively small. 

It  was  at  this  time,  also,  that  the  English  univer- 
sities were  aflame  with  enthusiasm  over  the  new 
Greek  learning,  and  students  gathered  at  Oxford 
by  thousands  to  study  Plato  and  kindred  authors. 
So  strong  was  the  influence  of  this  classical  ren- 
aissance, that  even  English  authors,  such  as  Bacon, 
wrote  in  Latin,  and  the  English  Court  became  a 
center  of  Greek  and  Roman  culture.  All  this  was 
anti-reformatory,  in  so  far  as  the  English  Refor- 
mation was  concerned.  It  tended  to  revive  anti- 
christian  and  unchristian  beliefs;  to  force  the  lan- 
guage back  into  the  service  of  the  ancient  tongues ; 
in  a  word,  to  heathenize  England. 

Add  to  this  those  distinctively  atheistic  and  de- 
grading influences  that  came  in  from  the  Conti- 
nent, and  we  are  able  to  see  what  a  tide  of  pagan 
teaching  was  flowing,  against  which  any  forces  in 
sympathy  with  the  Reformation  must  stoutly  set 
themselves.  It  was  this  that  Spenser  did,  as  a 
man  and  an  author,  and  as  in  thorough  sympathy 
with  the  great  religious  movement  of  the  era.  No 
clearer  proof  of  this  can  be  found  than  the  decided 
contrast  visible  between  the  sentiments  of  such 
paganized  writers  as  Nash  and  Greene  and  Beau- 


144  Special  Discussions 

mont  and  Fletcher,  and  the  positive  Christian 
utterances  of  Spenser.  In  his  "  Complaints,"  such 
as  "  The  Ruines  of  Time "  and  "  The  Ruines  of 
Rome,"  this  solemn  protest  against  paganism  is 
always  clear.  In  "  The  Tears  of  the  Muses," 
when  lamenting  the  fall  of  Comedy,  he  bitterly 
grieves  over  the  presence  of  this  heathenish  mor- 
ality among  the  minor  dramatists  of  the  day,  as, 
also,  against  those  debasing  methods  that  had  been 
foisted  on  English  scholarship  by  the  encroach- 
ments of  the  antichristian  literature  of  the  Conti- 
nent. 

2.  Spenser's  attitude  toward  Romanism  may 
also  be  noted.  This  is  one  of  the  most  important 
questions  in  determining  his  relation  to  the  Refor- 
mation, inasmuch  as  the  Reformation  meant,  pri- 
marily, the  rebuke  of  Romish  doctrine. 

It  is  by  no  means  as  difficult  to  ascertain  Spen- 
ser's attitude  here,  as  Chaucer's  attitude  to  Wyclif 
and  the  great  reforming  influences  of  the  time.  It 
was,  in  fact,  a  movement  that  was  just  taking- 
form  and  direction  when  Chaucer  was  writing,  and 
to  which  he  could  not  commit  himself  as  readily 
as  did  Spenser  in  the  more  advanced  religious 
thought  and  tendencies  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
Not  a  few  critics,  as  Lowell,  have  gone  so  far  as 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      145 

to  call  Spenser  the  John  Bunyan  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan Era,  as  in  the  pages  of  "  The  Faerie 
Queene"  he  does  something  of  that  work  against 
Romanism  which  Bunyan  did  in  the  days  of  the 
Commonwealth.  The  proofs  of  this  opposition  to 
Romanism  are  not  far  to  find. 

His  life,  from  boyhood  on,  is  proof  in  point.  His 
ancestry  was  anti-Romish.  His  education,  at  the 
Merchant  Taylors,  London,  was  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. At  Cambridge,  under  Whitgift,  Master  of 
Pembroke,  his  training  was,  of  course,  Protestant; 
while  the  fierce  doctrinal  disputes  then  waging  at 
the  university  but  intensified  this  protest  against 
all  that  was  papal.  The  wide  knowledge  of  bib- 
lical truth  that  he  evinces,  and  the  keen  personal 
interest  which  he  took  in  all  the  religious  discus- 
sions of  the  time  go  to  show  that  his  training  was 
Protestant,  and  that,  quite  apart  from  outside  in- 
fluences, he  would  have  been  on  the  side  of  the 
best  thinking  and  public  policy  in  church  and  state. 

The  best  proof  of  his  Protestantism,  however, 
is  seen  in  his  Works,  some  of  which  may  be  ex- 
amined. Turning  to  "  The  Shepherd's  Calendar," 
there  are  three  of  the  twelve  Eclogues  that  are 
distinctly  anti-Romish,  —  those  entitled  *'  May," 
"  July,"    and    "  September."     In    "  May,"    in    the 


146  Special  Discussions 

character  of  the  two  shepherds,  Piers  and  Pali- 
node, he  represents  two  kinds  of  pastors,  the 
Protestant  and  the  Romish,  respectively,  his  satir- 
ical allusions  to  the  wantonness  and  gross  neglect 
of  their  flocks  on  the  part  of  the  papal  pastors 
clearly  showing  what  views  he  held.  Thus  Piers 
says  to  Palinode,  who  had  been  praising  the  jol- 
lity and  gayety  of  the  shepherds: — 

"  The  like  bene  shepheardes,  for  the  devils  stedde, 
That  playen  while  their  flock^s  be  unfedde: 
Well  is  it  seene  theyr  sheepe  bene  not  their  owne, 
That  letten  them  runne  at  random  alone : 
But  they  bene  hyred  for  little  pay 
Of  other,  that  caren  as  little  as  they, 
What  fallen  the  flocke,  so  they  han  the  fleece, 
And  get  all  the  gayne.  ..." 

It  is  in  this  Eclogue  that  he  directly  charges  upon 
the  Pope  and  prelates  tyranny  over  the  bodies  and 
souls  of  men,  and  under  the  name  of  religion ;  also, 
the  neglect  of  their  duty  and  the  opening  of  the 
gates  for  the  incoming  of  worldHness  and  lust, — 
a  theme  of  which  Spenser  never  tires. 

In  "  July,"  the  theme  is  practically  the  same  — 
the  praise  of  good  shepherds,  in  the  person  of 
Thomalin,  and  the  blame  of  evil  shepherds,  in  the 
person  of  Morrell.  Thus  sings  Thomalin  in  one 
of  the  most  characteristic  passages: — 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      147 

"  O   blessed   Sheepe !    O    Shepheard  great ! 

That  bought  his  flocke  so  deare, 
And  them  did  save  with  bloudy  sweat 

From  wolves  that  would  them  teare.  .  .  . 
But  shepheard  mought  be  meeke  and  mylde, 

Well-eyed,  as  Argus  was, 
With  fleshly  follyes  undefyled, 

And  stoute  as  steede  of  brasse." 

As  he  goes  on  to  speak  of  the  base  shepherds,  no 
one  can  doubt  the  plainness  of  the  reference : — 

"They  bene  yclad  in  purple  and  pall, 

So  hath  theyr  God  them  blist; 
They  reigne  and  rulen  over  all, 

And  lord  it  as  they  list.  .  .  . 
For  Palinode   (if  thou  him  ken) 

Yode   [went]  late  on  pilgrimage 
To  Rome  (if  such  be  Rome),  and  then 

He  sawe  the  like  misusage; 
For  shepheardes   (sayd  he)   there  do§n  leade, 

As  lordes  done  other   where ; 
Theyr  sheepe  ban  crusts,  and  they  the  bread. 

The  chippes,  and  they  the  chere  [favor]." 

In  "  September,"  he  continues  the  strain,  call- 
ing special  attention  to  the  loose  character  and  liv- 
ing of  the  prelates.  In  this  Eclogue,  both  charac- 
ters, Diggon  Davie  and  Hobbinoll,  deplore  the  sins 
of  the  shepherds : — 

"  Then,  playnely  to  speak  of  shepheards  most  white, 
Badde  is  the  best   (this  English  is  flatt)." 


148  Special  Discussions 

In  these  and  similar  outbursts  of  mingled  satire 
and  pleasantry,  we  have  the  Langland  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  protesting  with  might  and  main 
against  the  corruptions  of  the  time,  and  especially 
against  the  sins  of  the  Romish  priests. 

In  one  of  the  nine  poems  called  "  Complaints," 
he  presents  the  same  line  of  satire,  in  the  character 
of  the  Priest,  as  he  says : — 

"  All  .his  caire  was,  his  service  well  to  say, 
And  to  read  Homelies  upon  Holidayes ; 
When  that  was  done,  he  might  attend  his  playes." 

He  encourages  two  of  the  personages,  under  the 

guise  of  the   Fox  and  the  Ape,   to   aspire  to   the 

priesthood  or  some  similar  office  in  the  church,  in 

that  they  could  live  therein  by  their  wits,   as   he 

says   to  them,   by  way  of  showing  how   light   the 

service  was : — 

"  Now  once  a  weeke,  upon  the  Sabbath  day, 
It  is  enough  to  doo  our  small  devotion, 
And  then  to  follow  any  merrie  notion. 
Nor  are  we  byde  to  fast,  but  when  we  list, 
Nor  to  were  garments  base,  of  wollen  twist, 
But  with  the  finest  silkes  us  to  aray. 
That  before  God  we  may  appeare  more  gay. 
We  be  not  tyde  to  wilful  chastitie, 
But  have  the  gospel  of  free  libertie." 

Hence,  we  read,  very  naturally,  and  in  well-known 
Spenserian  satire: — 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      149 

"  By  that  he  ended  had  his  ghostly  sermon, 
The  Fox  was  well  induced  to  be  a  Parson; 
And  of  the  Priest  eftsoones  began  to  inquire 
How  to  a  Benefice  he  might  aspire." 

In  answer  to  this,  he  is  initiated  into  the  crafty 
devices  of  office-seeking  in  the  church.  In  those 
of  the  "  Complaints "  entitled  "  The  Visions  of 
Bellay "  and  "  The  Visions  of  Petrarch,"  it  is 
quite  noteworthy  that  the  Flemish  author,  Van 
der  Noodt,  to  whom  Spenser  was  partially  in- 
debted in  these  "  Visions,"  writes,  that  he  was  a 
religious  refugee  from  Brabant  to  England,  "  as 
well,"  he  says,  ''  for  that  I  would  not  beholde  the 
abominations  of  the  Romysche  Antichrist  as  to  es- 
cape the  handes  of  the  bludthirsty."  This  is  one  of 
those  incidental  and  yet  forcible  testimonies  to  the 
Protestantism  of  Spenser  which  the  careful  reader 
will  find  throughout  his  verse  ;  no  good  opportunity 
being  lost  by  the  poet  to  express  his  indigna- 
tion against  the  Romish  abuses  of  the  time,  and 
especially  to  satirize  those  priests  who  made  a 
mock  of  their  duties. 

In  "  The  Faerie  Queene,"  the  evidence  is  equally 
clear.  This  may  best  be  shown  by  citing,  in  order, 
passages  from  the  poem.  An  examination  of 
Book   First   may   be   said   to    fairly   represent   the 


150  Special  Discussions 

entire  romance.  We  notice,  at  the  outset,  the 
meaning"  of  the  personal  symboHsm  used  —  the 
characters  of  the  epic. 

In  canto  i.,  in  the  Red  Cross  Knight,  the  ref- 
erence is  to  Saint  George,  the  patron  saint  of  Eng- 
land, as  distinct  from  Rome.  The  Dragon  referred 
to,  while  primarily  designating  Satan,  as  men- 
tioned in  Rev.  xii.  9,  also  designates  Rome  and 
Spain  as  two  great  papal  powers  in  Southern  Eu- 
rope. The  "  aged  sire  "  refers  to  Archimago,  the 
synonym  of  Hypocrisy,  or  the  Romish  Church ;  it 
being  probable  that  personal  allusion  is  made  to 
one  of  the  popes  who  had  issued  edicts  against 
Elizabeth  as  a  Protestant  queen,  possibly  to  Sixtus 
the  Fifth,  chosen  in  1585  to  the  papal  throne.  Pos- 
sibly the  allusion  may  be  to  Philip  the  Second,  of 
Spain,  the  sworn  foe  of  the  reformed  movement. 
In  this  same  canto,  Spenser  makes  ironical  refer- 
ence to  the  apparently  sinless  life  of  the  Romish 
hermits,  only  to  teach  us,  that,  beneath  this  fair 
exterior,  there  lurked  the  evil  principles  of  Jesuit- 
ical deceit  and  diplomacy.  Una,  the  true  church, 
is  contrasted  with  Duessa,  the  apostate  church, 
representing  Falsehood;  the  name  Una,  oneness, 
possibly  suggesting  Duessa,  or  duplicity. 

In  canto  ii.,  Archimago,  in  the  disguise  of  Saint 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      151 

George,  symbolizes  the  claims  made  by  the  papacy 
that  the  Pope  was  England's  patron  saint,  and 
that  England  was  in  spiritual  subjection  to  Rome. 
No  one  can  doubt  the  reference  to  Duessa  in  the 
lines, 

"  A  goodly  Lady  clad  in  scarlet  red,  . 
Profiled  with  gold  and  pearls  of  rich  assay." 

Here  the  poet  identifies  Duessa,  or  the  Romish 
Church,  with  the  Woman  of  Babylon  (Rev.  xiii. 
4),  a  more  specific  allusion  identifying  her  with 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  The  gold  and  pearls  and 
'•  tinsel  trappings  "  refer  to  the  offerings  made  by 
the  devotees  of  the  Pope  to  the  church  by  way  of 
penance  and  service,  the  poet  also  teaching  that 
popery  and  paganism  are  not  essentially  distinct. 
In  this  same  canto,  a  close  distinction  is  drawn  be- 
tween the  true  church  or  Holy  Catholic  Church 
and  the  Church  of  Rome,  as  the  property  of  the 
Pope.  He  shows  the  peril  to  which  the  Reformed 
Church  would  have  been  exposed  had  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots  gained  the  throne. 

Passing  to  canto  iii.,  we  note  a  reference  to 
Corceca,  "  the  mother  blynd,"  or  religious  super- 
stition, in  which  we  recall  the  current  Romish 
statement,  "  Ignorance  is  the  mother  of  devotion." 
There    is   also   allusion   to   the   manner   in   which 


152  Special  Discussions 

Henry  the  Eighth  in  1535  sent  out  a  commission 
to  inspect  the  abbeys  and  monasteries,  and  a  ref- 
erence to  the  unintelligent  worship  of  the  dupes 
of  Rome : — 

"  Nine  hundred  Pater  nosters  every  day, 
And  thrice  nine  hundred  Aves,  she  was  wont  to  say." 

At  this  point,  it  is  of  interest  to  note  that  this  vain 
and  ignorant  worship  is  dwelt  upon  at  length  and 
with  unmixed  severity  in  Spenser's  only  prose 
work,  his  "  View  of  the  Present  State  of  Ireland," 
in  which  we  read :  "  Therefore,"  says  Eudexus, 
one  of  the  two  speakers,  *'  the  fault  which  I  find 
in  Religion  is  but  one  .  .  .  that  they  are  all  Papists 
by  their  profession,  but  in  the  same  so  blindly  and 
brutishly  enformed  as  that  you  would  rather  think 
them  atheists  or  infidels,  for  not  one  amongst  a 
hundred  knoweth  any  ground  of  religion  or  any 
article  of  his  faith,  but  can  perhaps  say  his  Pater 
Noster  or  his  Ave  Maria  without  any  knowledge 
or  understanding  what  one  word  thereof  mean- 
eth."  Referring  to  Popes  Celestius  and  Patrick 
he  continues :  ''  In  which  Popes'  time,  and  long 
before,  it  is  certain  that  religion  was  generally 
corrupted  with  their  popish  trumpery,  therefore 
what  other  could  the  priests  learn  than  such  trash 
as  was  taught  them  and  drink  of  that  cup  of  for- 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      153 

nication  with  which  the  purple  harlot  had  then 
made  all  nations  drunken." 

In  canto  iv.,  the  reference  to  Lucifer,  or  Pride, 
and  the  ''  six  wizards "  is  to  the  Seven  Deadly 
Sins  of  the  Romish  Calendar.  In  canto  vii.,  in 
depicting  the  Beast  or  Dragon,  that  is,  the  Papacy, 
his  "  yron  brest "  symbolizes  the  cruelty  of  the 
church ;  his  "  back  of  scaly  brass,"  her  insensi- 
bility to  counsel,  and  his  eyes  "  imbrewed  with 
blood,"  the  horrors  of  the  Inquisition  and  Saint 
Bartholomew.  A  similar  reference  to  Saint  Bar- 
tholomew's Day  is  found  in  canto  viii. : — 

"  And  after  him  the  proud  Diiessa  came, 

High  mounted  on  her  many-headed  Beast, 
And  every  head  with  fiery  tongue  did  flame, 
And  every  head  was  crowned  in  his  crest, 
And  bloody  mouthed  with  late  cruel  feast." 

He  shows  that  the  Romish  system  is  based  on  tem- 
poral and  spiritual  tyranny,  which  being  removed, 
the  whole  system  totters  and  falls. 

In  canto  x.,  reference  is  made  to  the  papal  ten- 
ets of  Confession  and  Absolution  and  Penance  and 
Indulgences  against  which  Luther  had  fought. 

In  the  last  canto,  allusion  is  made  to  the  various 
attempts  to  Romanize  the  English  Church,  es- 
pecially by  Pius  the  Fourth,  who  invited  Eliza- 
beth to  send  delegates  to  the  Council  of  Trent;  to 


154  Special  Discussions 

Pius  the  Fifth,  who  sought  to  reconcile  EHzabeth 
before  excommunicating  her;  and  to  Philip  the 
Second,  who,  with  the  same  intent,  sought  the 
queen  in  marriage.  Thus,  from  first  to  last,  in 
this  opening  book,  Spenser's  decided  anti-papal 
character  appears;  so  much  so,  that  he  may  be 
said,  indeed,  to  have  been  in  his  own  way  one  of 
the   Elizabethan  Reformers. 

In  this  respect.  Book  First  is  but  a  sample  of 
the  other  five  books,  in  each  of  which  the  poet 
keeps  his  eye  on  the  papacy,  and  has  nothing  to 
say  on  her  behalf,  save  that  she  did  an  important 
work  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and,  later  on,  in  the 
province  of  the  fine  arts.  Percival  and  other  crit- 
ics have  spoken  of  Spenser's  "  intolerant  point  of 
view  "  whenever  he  discussed  the  relation  of  Ro- 
manism to  the  Reformed  Faith  and  Church;  while 
the  fact  is  that  he  could  have  taken  no  other  point 
of  view  in  an  age  such  as  that  in  which  he  lived. 
He  was,  indeed,  intolerant,  if  by  that  is  meant  that 
he  had  no  sympathy  with  Rome,  and  left  unim- 
proved no  occasion  to  evince  it.  If  by  ''  intoler- 
ant "  is  meant  that  his  opposition  was  expressed  in 
a  bitter  and  bigoted  spirit,  then  objection  must  be 
taken ;  his  so-called  "  intolerance  "  being  nothing 
more  than  that  uncompromising  spirit  which  Lu- 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      155 

ther  evinced  in  Germany,  Knox  in  Scotland,  and 
Latimer  in  England.  Reference  has  been  made  to 
possible  resemblances  between  Spenser  and  Bun- 
yan.  One  of  them  is  just  here,  in  the  unyielding 
abhorrence  which  each  of  them  had  of  the  papacy, 
and  their  conception  of  it  as  the  child  of  the  devil. 
3.  A  further  question  of  interest  arises  in  de- 
termining Spenser's  relation  to  the  Reformation. 
It  pertains  to  his  attitude,  inside  the  sphere  of  Pro- 
testantism, toward  the  Calvinism  and  Puritanism 
of  the  time  as  distinct  from  Anglicanism.  It  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  we  are  now  dealing  with  a 
period  marked  by  the  revival  not  only  of  class- 
ical learning,  but,  more  especially,  of  that  of  the 
Schoolmen,  made  up,  as  it  was,  of  theologies  and 
philosophies,  whose  chief  aim  was  to  discuss  and 
settle  the  perplexing  doctrinal  questions  of  the 
time.  This  scholastic  method  of  theologizing  and 
passionate  love  for  it  was  a  good  part  of  the 
legacy  which  the  Schoolmen  bequeathed  to  the 
England  of  Elizabeth.  Hence,  it  is  clear  that 
Spenser's  middle  life  and  best  literary  work  were 
contemporaneous  with  this  great  historic  and  con- 
troversial movement,  so  that  it  would  have  been 
difficult  for  him  not  to  have  taken  a  part,  and 
defined  his  position  on  all  pending  questions.     In 


156  Special  Discussions 

no  one  sphere  did  this  doctrinal  dispute  take  on 
a  more  determined  form  than  as  to  the  relation  of 
Anglicanism  to  the  other  Protestant  theologies 
and  ecclesiastical  systems  of  the  age,  Calvinistic 
and  Puritan.  The  battle  now  was  not  between 
Christianity  and  Paganism,  nor  between  Protest- 
antism and  the  Papacy,  but  between  the  Church 
of  England  and  the  Dissenters,  between  Canter- 
bury and  Geneva.  Richard  Hooker,  the  first  and 
ablest  Anglican  polemic  writer  of  the  day,  made 
it  the  aim  of  his  "  Polity  "  to  show  that  the  teach- 
ings and  order  of  the  established  church  were  of 
divine  authority,  and,  hence,  binding  on  all  the 
loyal  citizens  of  England,  in  opposition  to  that 
faith  and  polity  which  was  -defended  fully  as 
strenuously  by  Travers  and  Cartwright  and  the 
Calvinistic  school.  The  fact  is,  that  Hooker,  as  a 
man  and  an  author,  stood  at  the  very  head  of  this 
movement,  and  it  is  through  the  study  of  his  life 
and  work  that  we  obtain  the  best  results  as  to 
what  the  movement  was  and  did.  In  the  Temple 
of  which  he  had  been  appointed  the  Master,  Hooker 
defended  Anglicanism  in  the  morning;  and  Tra- 
vers, Calvinistic  Puritanism  in  the  afternoon, 
while  around  one  or  the  other  as  a  leader  the 
Protestants    of    England    gathered.     Toward    this 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      157 

increased  agitation  in  the  Protestant  Church,  Spen- 
ser assumed  a  rational  and  moderate  position,  mid- 
way between  the  extremes  of  a  bigoted  Puritanism 
and  an  equally  bigoted  Anglicanism.  Thus  Lowell 
ventures  the  assertion  that  in  "  The  Shepherd's 
Calendar  "  the  poet  was  a  Puritan,  and  so  by  con- 
viction. While  quoting  the  passage  from  "  The 
Faerie  Queene  "  supposed  to  satirize  the  Puritan 
narrowness, 

"  Like  that  ungracious  crew  wliich  feigns  demurest 
grace," 

he  insists  that  "  with  the  more  generous  side  of 
Puritanism "  Spenser  "  sympathized  to  the  last." 
To  the  same  effect,  Church  contends,  "  that  he 
certainly  had  the  Puritan  hatred  of  Rome,"  and 
adds,  that  he  exhibited  a  form  of  faith  that  might 
well  be  called  ''  a  mitigated  Puritanism."  This  is 
not  to  say,  however,  that  Spenser  was  a  Puritan 
—  as  Milton  and  Baxter  were  Puritans.  He  never 
classed  himself  among  the  dissenters  from  the 
established  church.  He  never  saw  his  way  clear 
to  leave  its  inclosure  and  openly  oppose  it.  This, 
however,  is  to  be  noted,  that  he  favored  a  modi- 
fied Anglicanism.  He  objected  to  the  papal  ten- 
dencies of  the  prelacy,  insisting  that  an  unduly 
elaborate   ceremonial   would   in   the   end    react    on 


158  Special  Discussions 

the  usefulness  and  very  existence  of  the  organi- 
zation. 

In  a  similar  manner,  he  objected  to  that  form 
of  doctrine  current  under  the  name  of  Calvinism, 
because  of  its  supposed  bigotry  and  intolerance. 
When  a  student  at  Pembroke  College,  he  was  a 
witness  of  the  fierce  disputes  between  Calvinist 
and  churchman.  Whitgift  was  contending  for  the 
Established  Order,  while  Cartwright  was  actually 
teaching  at  Cambridge  the  theology  of  Geneva. 

To  these  discussions,  Spenser  as  a  student  was 
accustomed  and,  as  a  result,  must  thus  early  have 
taken  sides  against  the  exclusive  teachings  of 
Cartwright.  Thus  we  read  from  Church :  "  For 
the  stern  austerities  of  Calvinism,  its  isolation 
from  human  history  and  all  the  manifold  play  and 
variety  of  human  character,  there  could  not  be 
much  sympathy  in  a  man  like  Spenser,"  as  we 
know  there  was  not  with  any  system  that  inter- 
fered, as  he  thought,  with  the  full  development  of 
human  life  and  personality.  In  fine,  if  he  must 
choose,  as  he  did,  between  an  intolerant  Anglican- 
ism and  an  intolerant  Puritanism  and  Calvinism, 
he  preferred  the  former,  and,  with  that  preference, 
used  his  utmost  efforts  to  soften  its  asperities  and 
widen   its   separation   from   the   Church   of  Rome. 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      159 

It  is  thus  that  Spenser  was  true  to  the  best  tradi- 
tions of  the  English  Church,  and  yet  viewed  with 
a  generous  eye  all  other  forms  of  Protestantism 
that  existed.  In  this  respect,  he  was  a  true  re- 
former, working  for  the  highest  interests  of  truth 
as  truth.  To  this  extent,  at  least,  Spenser  the 
poet  was  the  superior  of  Hooker  the  controver- 
sialist, in  that  he  more  liberally  admitted  the 
claims  of  opposing  systems  as  well  as  the  faults 
of  his  own,  and  sought  by  a  proper  measure  of 
concession  to  emphasize  the  best  that  there  was  in 
each.  Spenser's  attitude,  then,  toward  the  Refor- 
mation is  clear.  Out  and  out  opposed  to  the  pagan 
teachings  that  were  so  current  as  the  result  of  the 
classical  revival,  and  even  more  bitterly  opposed 
to  the  faith  of  the  Romish  Church,  he  was  a  loyal 
Anglican,  with  the  independence  of  his  own  con- 
victions, ready  always  to  acknowledge  every  whole- 
some element  in  different  Protestant  systems,  but 
never  willing  to  lend  his  name  or  pen  to  any  kind 
of  bigotry,  whether  that  took  the  form  of  Papacy, 
Prelacy,  Presbyterianism,  or  Puritanism.  He  was, 
in  fact,  a  prominent  example  of  the  tolerant  Chris- 
tian and  churchman,  and  that  in  an  age  when 
Christian  tolerance  was  a  special  grace. 

It  would  be  an  interesting  study  to  run  through 


160  Special  Discussions 

the  list  of  Elizabethan  authors  to  note  just  what 
their  attitude  was  toward  the  Reformation  —  in 
what  respect  indifferent  or  hostile,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  minor  playwrights;  in  what  respect  re- 
served, as  in  the  case  of  Shakespeare  and  Bacon; 
and  when  pronounced  and  aggressive,  as  with 
Hooker  and  Spenser;  there  being  no  one  who  did 
more  efficient  work  than  Spenser  along  the  lines 
of  the  Reformation. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  forgotten,  that  whatever  were  the 
differences  of  belief  and  worship  among  the  Prot- 
estant orders  of  the  time,  all  were  united  in  the 
one  great  effort  to  uproot  the  power  of  Rome.  To 
this  extent,  Spenser  and  the  best  authors  were  re- 
formers, as  much  so  as  were  Fox  and  Knox.  The 
Reformation  was  English  as  against  Romish;  a 
revolt  in  the  sixteenth  century  against  the  tradi- 
tional dogmas  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and,  as  such, 
claimed  the  sympathies  of  every  loyal  Englishman. 
It  is  one  of  the  anomalies  of  literary  history  that 
so  pronounced  a  Protestant  as  Spenser  should  have 
been  obliged  to  spend  some  of  the  best  years  of 
his  life  in  a  Roman  Catholic  country,  and  to  have 
written  his  greatest  poem  on  Romish  soil,  as  an 
English  exile  on  Irish  ground. 

The  very  names  of  his  children,  Sylvanus  and 


Spenser  and  the  English  Reformation      161 

Peregrine,  intimate  that  he  felt  hitnself  to  be  a 
kind  of  an  alien.  In  all  this,  however,  the  heroic 
figure  of  the  Red  Cross  Knight  was  kept  in  view, 
as  was  that  of  Una,  the  true  church,  the  Holy 
Catholic  Church  of  the  apostles  and  the  faithful  of 
all  time.  If,  in  this  respect,  a  comparison  be  made 
between  Chaucer  and  Spenser,  the  result  is  largely 
in  favor  of  the  later  poet.  "  The  •  Canterbury 
Tales  "  held  no  such  relation  to  the  earlier  Refor- 
mation of  the  fourteenth  century  as  does  "  The 
Faerie  Queene  "  to  the  later. 

One  of  the  interesting  reflections  that  arise  in 
connection  with  the  six  lost  or  unfinished  books 
of  "  The  Faerie  Queene "  is  found  in  the  ques- 
tion as  to  just  how  the  poet  would  have  further 
indicated  in  them  his  personal  position  as  to 
the  great  religious  movements  and  topics  of  the 
time,  whether  he  would  have  revealed  weaker  or 
stronger  preferences  for  Puritanism,  and  just  how 
he  would  have  represented  this  reformation  of  the 
church  as  involving  that  of  the  state  and  of  Eng- 
lish authorship. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  as  Wyclif  and  Caxton  were 
reformers  before  the  Reformation,  Spenser  was  a 
reformer  at  the  Reformation,  and,  next  to  the 
clergy   and    religious   writers    of   the   time,   did   a 


162  Special  Discussions 

work  second  to  no  other  toward  the  advancement 
of  EngHsh  Protestantism  and  Christian  truth.  In 
all  this,  we  have  decided  proof  still  of  the  substan- 
tial sympathy  of  our  best  English  authors  with  the 
best  interests  of  evangelical  religion. 


II 

SPENSER  AND  LATER  ENGLISH  SONNETEERS 

Very  naturally  Shakespeare  does  not  stand  alone 
as  a  sonneteer  in  the  Elizabethan  Era. 

In  common  with  all  forms  of  literature  in  prose 
and  verse,  the  sonnet  partook  of  the  general  liter- 
ary awakening' that  marked  the  opening  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  Saintsbury,  in  his  recent  discus- 
sion of  Elizabethan  literature,  speaks  of  "  the  ex- 
traordinary outburst  of  sonnet  writing  "  at  the  time, 
so  notable  that,  before  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign, 
in  1603,  more  than  "  a  dozen  collections,  chiefly  or 
wholly  of  sonnets,"  appeared,  represented  by  such 
authors  as  Lodge,  Fletcher,  Daniel,  Constable, 
Watson,  Drayton,  and,  especially^  Sidney,  quite 
apart  from  the  more  distinctive  product  of  Shake- 
speare and  Spenser.  To  these  minor  authors  of 
the  era,  this  special  poetic  form  seemed  particu- 
larly to  appeal,  partly  because  of  its  structural 
brevity,  and,  also,  by  reason  of  its  pronounced 
idyllic  quality,  admitting  of  the  expression  of  emo- 
tion throughout  the  wide  range  of  human  feeling 
and  fancy.  That  the  "  fashion  changed "  as  the 
163 


164  Special  Discussions 

century  closed  is  suggestively  attributed  to  the 
overshadowing  excellence  of  Shakespeare  and 
Spenser. 

SPENSER 

The  great  epic  poet  of  the  time,  Edmund  Spen- 
ser, contributed  either  originally  or  as  a  transla- 
tor what  might  be  called  several  collections  or 
series  of  sonnets.  One  of  these  series  is  "  The 
Ruines  of  Rome,"  the  product  of  Bellay,  one  of 
the  seven  compeers  under  Henry  the  Second.  In 
the  first  stanza,  which  is  an  invocation,  the  poet 
asks  the  aid  of  those  spirits  who  of  old  peopled 
Rome  and  added  to  its  fame.  As  the  poem  devel- 
ops, he  pictures  the  city  in  ruins,  repeats  the  lam- 
entation of  her  great  names  over  her  downfall  and 
the  boasts  of  her  conquerors.  Though  in  ruins, 
he  depicts  her  as  still  beautiful,  recalls  her  great- 
ness, feared  even  by  the  gods,  proclaims  her  to  be 
without  a  rival,  and  calls  on  the  spirits  of  the 
Thracian  bards  and  of  Vergil  himself  to  aid  him 
in  his  praise.  He  dwells  with  sadness  on  the 
causes  of  her  downfall,  in  ambition,  pride,  wealth 
and  luxury,  civil  and  foreign  wars,  and  social  cor- 
ruption. Each  of  the  thirty-two  stanzas  is  a  poem 
in  itself,  as  rich  in  aesthetic  beauty  as  it  is  in  eth- 


Sp'enser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers     165 

ical  teaching,  Spenser  adding  an  envoy  to  the 
original,  as  a  formal  tribute  to  Bellay.  It  is  a  kind 
of  an  abridged  poetic  study  of  the  decline  and  fall 
of  the  Roman  Empire,  as  Gibbon  viewed  it,  and 
marked  by  suggestive  comments  on  political  phi- 
losophy and  life.  The  structure  of  the  stanzas  is 
that  of  three  regular  quatrains  and  a  couplet. 
Another  Spenserian  series  of  the  sonnet  order  is 
that  entitled  "  The  Visions  of  Bellay,"  made  up 
of  fifteen  stanzas,  in  which  the  Italian  poet  is  back 
again  among  Roman  ruins  and  by  a  succession  of 
visions  depicts  the  instability  of  all  things  human. 
"  The  Visions  of  Petrarch,"  made  up  of  seven 
stanzas,  and  "  The  Visions  of  the  World's  Van- 
itie,"  with  twelve  stanzas,  complete  a  cycle  or  a 
trilogy  of  visions,  in  the  sonnet  structure,  all  in- 
cluded in  a  larger  series  of  nine  poems  under  the 
caption  of  "  Complaints."  It  is  interesting  to  note 
that  an  early  version  of  Bellay's  ''  Visions "  is 
found  in  "  The  Theatre  for  Worldlings,"  a  book 
by  John  van  der  Noodt,  a  refugee  from  Brabant 
to  England,  to  escape  Romish  persecution. 

The  sonnets  proper,  however,  from  the  pen  of 
Spenser  are  the  eighty-eight  entitled  ''Amoretti," 
written  as  a  tribute  to  Elizabeth  Boyer,  whom  he 
married   in    1594.      As   the    Italian   title   indicates. 


166  Special  Discussions 

they  are  little  love-lyrics,  and  follow  the  prevail- 
ing Spenserian  structure,  as  seen  in  the  "  Visions," 
and  are  marked  by  that  peculiar  poetic  quality  that 
characterizes  all  the  work  of  Spenser  in  verse. 
Some  of  these  —  such  as  the  fifteenth,  eighteenth, 
twenty-second,  thirty-fourth,  and  sixty-eighth  — 
are  exceptionally  excellent.  This  last  one  well  ex- 
hibits the  author  at  his  best: — 

"  Most  glorious  Lord  of  life,  that  on  this  day 
Didst  make  thy  triumph  over  death  and  sin, 
And,  having  harrowed  (hell,  didst  bring  away 
Captivity  thence  captive,  us  to  win: 
This  joyous  day,  dear  Lord,  with  joy  begin; 
And  grant  that  we,  for  whom  thou  didest  die, 
Being  with  thy  dear  blood  clean  washt  from  sin, 
May  live  forever  in  felicity! 
And  that  thy  love,  we  weighing  worthily, 
May  likewise  love  thee  for  the  same  again; 
And  for  thy  sake,  that  all  like  dear  did'st  buy, 
With  love  may  one  another  entertain! 

So  let  us  love,  dear  Love,  like  as  we  ought: 
Love  is  the  lesson  which  the  Lord  us  taught." 

In  fact,  the  sonnets  of  Spenser  sustain  some- 
what the  same  relation  to  "  The  Faerie  Queene  " 
and  his  other  poems  which  the  sonnets  of  Shake- 
speare sustain  to  his  plays ;  so  that,  though  inferior 
to  his  epic  as  Shakespeare's  to  his  dramas,  they 
cannot  be  said  to  be  unworthy  of  their  author  or 
in   any   substantive   way   to  impair   his   poetic   re- 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      167 

pute.  As  the  two  greatest  poets  of  the  Elizabethan 
Age  they  thus  fittingly  represent  the  three  great 
divisions  of  poetry,  the  epic,  dramatic,  and  lyric, 
and  auspiciously  open  the  record  of  Modern  Eng- 
lish verse. 

MILTON 

In  the  collection  of  Milton's  poems,  we  find 
eighteen  sonnets,  the  authorship  of  no  one  of  them 
being  in  doubt,  sustaining  somewhat  the  same  re- 
lation to  his  epics  as  the  "  shorter  poems,"  so- 
called,  sustain  to  them;  especially,  such  as  the 
poems  "  On  the  Morning  of  Christ's  Nativity," 
"  Upon  the  Circumcision,"  "  The  Passion,"  and 
"Arcadia."  What  are  called  his  "  songs,"  such  as 
'•  Song. — On  May  Morning,"  are  such  in  substance 
though  not  in  form,  as  are  the  poems  "  On  Time  " 
and  "At  a  Solemn  Music."  The  famous  "  Epitaph 
on  Shakespeare,"  though  not  exactly  corresponding 
to  the  laws  of  sonnet  structure,  is  the  nearest  ap- 
proximation to  it  and  has  the  force  of  such  a  lyric. 
It  is  in  reality  a  sixteen-line  stanza,  made  up  of 
eight  regular  couplets.  His  poem  "  On  the  Uni- 
versity Carrier,"  Hobson,  is  made  up  of  nine  such 
couplets.  His  first  sonnet  was  written  in  1631, 
and  is  entitkd  "  On  his  being  arrived  to  the  Age 
of  Twenty-three,"  as  it  opens: — 


168  Special  Discussions 

"  How  soon  hath  Time,  the  subtle  thief  of  youth, 
Stolen  on  his  wing  my  three-and-twentieth  year!" 

ending  with  the  oft-quoted  couplet, 

"  All  is,  if  I  have  grace  to  use  it  so. 
As  ever  in  my  great  Task-master's  eyes." 

Other  sonnets  follow  of  varying  value,  those  per- 
taining to  political  struggles,  such  as  the  third, 
sixth,  seventh,  twelfth,  and  thirteenth,  and  those 
referring  to  his  blindness,  the  fifteenth  and  seven- 
teenth, being  especially  significant.  From  these 
eighteen  sonnets,  few  though  they  are,  we  may 
cull  some  of  the  most  current  passages  that  Mil- 
ton has  penned.  Thus  in  the  sixth  we  note  the 
line, 

"  That  would  have  made  Quintilian  stare  and  gasp." 
In  the  seventh,  we  read : — 

"  License  they  mean  when  they  cry  liberty." 
So,  in  the  twelfth,  are  the  familiar  lines, 

"  Till  truth  and  right  from  violence  be  freed. 
And  public  faith  cleared  from  the  shameful  brand 
Of  public  fraud." 

So,  in  the  thirteenth, 

"  Peace  hath  her  victories 
No  less  renowned  than  War." 

In  the  fifteenth. 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      169 

"  They  also  serve  wlio  only  stand  and  wait." 

In   the   seventeenth,   writing   of   his   bHndness,   he 

says : — 

"  Yet  I  argue  not 
Against  Heaven's  hand  or  will,  nor  bate  one  jot 
Of  heart  or  hope,  but  still  bear  up  and  steer 
Right  onward.     What  supports  me,  dost  thou  ask? 
The  conscience,  friend,  to  have  lost  them  overplied 
In  liberty's  defence,  my  noble  task. 
Of  which  all  Europe  rings  from  side  to  side." 

In   an   exceptional   stanza  of  twenty  lines,  pub- 
lished among  the  sonnets  as  if  a  part  of  them,  en- 
titled "  New  Forcers  of  Conscience  under  the  Long 
Parliament,"  is  the  well-known  line, 
"  New  Presbyter  is  but  old  Priest  writ  large." 

Of  the  eighteen  sonnets,  the  fourth,  fifth,  eleventh, 
fourteenth,  and  fifteenth  are  somewhat  irregular 
as  to  structure.  As  to  the  poetic  merit  of  the  son- 
nets, there  has  been  but  one  opinion,  and  that  fully 
sustaining  the  author's  general  reputation  as  a 
writer  of  verse. 

"  The  effectiveness  of  Milton's  sonnets,"  writes 
Pattison,  "  is  chiefly  due  to  the  real  nature  of  the 
character,  person,  or  incident  of  which  each  is  the 
delineation.  Each  person,  thing,  or  fact  is  a  mo- 
ment  in   Milton's    fife    in    which    he   was    stirred." 


170  Special  Discussions 

The  short  and  condensed  form  of  this  verse  seemed 
admirably  suited  to  the  expression  of  Milton's 
terse  and  vigorous  sentiments  on  matters  affecting 
the  commonwealth,  and  in  such  personal  tributes 
as  those  to  Skinner,  Cromwell,  Fairfax,  and  Sir 
Henry  Vane.  Few  contrasts  in  English  literature 
are  more  marked  than  that  which  is  presented 
in  the  Milton  of  "  Paradise  Lost "  and  "  Samson 
Agonistes,"  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Milton  of 
"  L'Allegro  "  and  "  Comus  "  and  the  Sonnets,  on 
the  other.  The  most  suggestive  example  of  such 
a  contrast  is  furnished  by  Milton  himself  as  a 
writer  of  verse  and  a  writer  of  prose. 

WORDSWORTH 

In  the  troublous  times  between  the  early  poems 
of  Milton  and  the  birth  of  Wordsworth  (1770), 
opening  the  era  of  naturalistic  verse  in  England, 
we  find  but  little  lyric  product  of  exceptional  merit, 
and  the  sonnet  "  was  long  out  of  favor."  A  gross 
materialism,  on  the  one  hand,  or  a  conventional 
formalism,  on  the  other,  sufficiently  explains  this 
lyric  dearth.  Gay's  "  Shepherd's  Week  "  and  Ram- 
say's "Gentle  Shepherd,"  Shenstone's  "Pastoral 
Ballad "  and  the  Odes  and  Elegy  of  Gray, 
Thomson's    "  Seasons "   and   the   Odes   of   Collins, 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      171 

Beattie's  "  Minstrel  "  and  Goldsmith's  "  Deserted 
Village,"  and  Cowper's  Hymns,  all  represented 
scattered  specimens  of  idyllic  excellence.  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott  was  born  the  following  year;  Burns  was 
but  a  boy  of  twelve  summers ;  while  Byron,  re- 
membered as  a  sonneteer  only  by  his  famous  lines 
on  "  Chillon,"  was  still  in  his  minority.  Indeed, 
it  was  this  famous  trio  that  widened  and  enriched 
the  romantic  movement  that  was  so  signally  to 
change  the  current  and  character  of  English  verse 
in  the  direction  of  emotive  sympathy,  of  a  catholic 
spirit,  and  a  deep  devotion  to  the  interests  of  the 
people  as  a  whole;  and  yet  Wordsworth  was  the 
only  one  of  the  three  who  in  any  substantive  sense 
represents  that  form  of  the  lyric  included  in  the 
sonnet  as  a  form  whose  "  thoughtfulness  suited 
his  bent  and  whose  limits  frustrated  his  prolixity." 
It  is  true  that  in  Scott's  "  Lady  of  the  Lake," 
"  Marmion,"  ''  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,"  and 
other  poems,  we  have  some  stanzas  of  fourteen 
lines,  but  not  of  the  traditional  sonnet  type  nor 
in  any  consecutive  order;  while  in  the  poetry  of 
Burns,  though  in  what  he  thus  writes  he  conforms 
to  one  of  the  standard  sonnet  structures,  the  ex- 
amples are  so  rare  as  to  scarcely  admit  of  citation. 
It  is  not  a  little   difficult  to  account  for  the  fact 


173  Special  Discussions 

that  such  genuine  bards  as  Scott  and  Burns,  so 
in  sympathy,  as  they  were,  with  all  human  inter- 
ests and  all  the  varied  phenomena  of  the  natural 
world,  should  not  have  given  us  extended  speci- 
mens of  this  particular  lyric  order.  As  to  Burns, 
especially,  such  a  sonnet  as  he  gives  us  in  the  one 
entitled  "  On  Hearing  a  Thrush  Sing  in  a  Morn- 
ing Walk,"  elicits  increasing  surprise  that  he  did 
not  give  us  more.  Possibly,  his  free  and  easy 
manner  and  his  lack  of  all  restraint  as  a  man  or 
poet  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  confine  himself 
to  any  such  prearranged  poetic  order  as  that  fur- 
nished us  in  the  historic  sonnets  of  Milton  and 
Wordsworth  and  the  later  poets.  His  songs  seemed 
to  need  an  atmosphere  and  area  of  their  own  to 
give  them  their  fullest  poetical  effect. 

In  one  of  his  informal  conversations  Words- 
worth speaks  of  the  *'  five  and  six  hundred  son- 
nets "  that  he  had  written,  an  estimate  that  can  be 
justified  only  by  supposing  that  all  that  he  wrote 
are  not  extant,  or  that  he  used  the  term  "  sonnet  " 
somewhat  loosely  as  including  any  short  lyric  and 
not  necessarily  only  those  of  the  conventional 
structure.  In  his  poetry,  as  we  have  it,  there  are 
somewhat  over  three  hundred  examples  of  the 
sonnet  proper,  divisible  into  classes  or  series : — 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers     173 

First,  "  The  Ecclesiastical  Sketches "  include 
one  hundred  and  fifteen  selections.  *'  For  the  con- 
venience of  passing  from  one  point  of  the  subject 
to  another  without  shocks  of  abruptness,"  the  au- 
thor states,  "  this  work  has  taken  the  shape  of  a 
series  of  Sonnets."  In  what  he  calls  the  ''Adver- 
tisement "  he  gives  us  the  occasion  that  elicited 
the  poem.  In  a  walk,  one  beautiful  morning  in 
December,  1820,  with  a  special  friend,  who  was 
selecting  a  site  for  a  church  on  his  estate,  their 
thoughts  naturally  reverted  to  the  ecclesiastical 
history  of  England,  and  especially  to  the  Catholic 
Question,  then  agitating  Parliament ;  "  and  it 
struck  me,"  he  says,  "  that  certain  points  "  in  the 
history  "  might  advantageously  be  presented  to 
view  in  verse."  He  thus  divides  the  "  Sketches  " 
into  three  parts :  The  first  treats  of  the  history, 
"  From  the  Introduction  of  Christianity  into  Brit- 
ain, to  the  Consummation  of  the  Papal  Domin- 
ion " ;  the  second,  "  To  the  Close  of  the  Troubles 
in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,"  and  the  third,  "  From 
the  Restoration  to  the  Present  Times," —  "  a  series 
of  sonnets,"  writes  Myers,  "  which  though  they 
possess,  in  only  a  few  instances,  force  or  charm 
enough  to  rank  them  high  as  poetry,  yet,  assume 
a  certain  value  when  we  consider  .  .  .  the  greater 


174  Special  Discussions 

inadequacy  of  all  rival  attempts  in  the  same  direc- 
tion." Some  of  the  selections  are  of  special  his- 
torical interest  alike  to  the  student  of  church  and 
state,  such  as  the  "  Monastery  of  Old  Bangor  " ; 
"  PauHnus,"  of  Northumbria ;  "  Primitive  Saxon 
Clergy,"  beginning, 

"  How   beautiful  your  presence,   how   benign, 
Servants  of  God!  who  not  a  thought  will  share 
With  the  vain  world  "  ; 

"  Reproof,"  a  tribute  to  the  historian  Bede ; 
"  Saxon  Monasteries  " ;  ''Alfred  "  as   it  opens, 

"  Behold  a  pupil  of  the  monkish  gown, 
The  pious  Alfred,  King  to  Justice  dear; 
Lord  of  the  harp  and  liberating  spear; 
Mirror  of  Princes  "  ; 

"The  Norman  Conquest";  "  Wickliffe,"  as  the 
forerunner  of  the  English  Reformation ;  "  Corrup- 
tions of  the  Higher  Clergy,"  in  which  he  stoutly 
rebukes  their  worldliness  and  love  of  ease,  as  he 
writes : — 

"  Woe  to  you  Prelates !  rioting  in  ease 
And  cumbrous  wealth,  .  .  . 

Pastors  who  neither  take  nor  point  the  way 
To  Heaven  " ; 

"  The  Translation  of  the  Bible  "  so  that 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      175 

"  He  who  guides  the  plough,  or  wields  the  crook, 
With  understanding  spirit  now  may  look 
Upon  her  records  "  ; 

"  Walton's  Book  of  Lives  " ;  "  Places  of  Wor- 
ship," of  which  he  beautifully  sings : — 

"  Where  a  few  villagers  on  bended  knees 
Find  solace  which  a  busy  world  disdains  " ; 

"  Pastoral  Character " ;  and  **  Inside  of  King's 
College  Chapel,  Cambridge."  These  are  some  of 
the  varied  topics  of  which  this  old  Lakeside  son- 
neteer treats,  and  in  the  elaboration  of  which  some 
of  the  choicest  elements  of  his  personality  and 
poetic  art  appear,  — ''  not  brilliant,  indeed,  as  mod- 
els of  lyric  verse,  and  yet  truly  Wordsworthian, 
and  as  such  interesting  and  impressive." 

A  second  series  of  sonnets,  numbering  thirty- 
three,  with  what  is  called  an  "After-Thought,"  or 
supplementary  stanza,  is  entitled  "  To  the  River 
Duddon,"  a  collection,  the  author  tells  us,  "  which 
was  the  growth  of  many  years."  To  Wordsworth, 
as  a  poet  of  the  woods  and  streams,  this  historic 
river  "  on  the  confines  of  Westmoreland,  Cumber- 
land and  Lancashire,"  seemed  to  appeal  with 
special  interest,  as  he  writes  in  the  closing  couplet 
of  the  first  stanza: — 

"  Pure  flow  the  verse,  pure,  vigorous,  free,  and  bright, 
For  Duddon,  long-loved  Duddon,  is  my  theme!" 


176  Special  Discussions 

Of  the   entire   collection,   the   "After-Thought "   is 
the  best: — 

"  I  thought  of  Thee,  my  partner  and  my  guide, 
As  being  past  away,  —  vain  sympathies ! 
For,  backward,  Duddon!  as  I  cast  my  eyes, 
I  see  what  was,  and  is,  and  will  abide ; 
Still  glides  the  stream,  and  shall  not  cease  to  glide; 
The  form  remains,  the  function  never  dies; 
While  we,  the  brave,  the  mighty,  and  the  wise. 
We  men,  who  in  our  morn  of  youth  defied 
The  elements,  must  vanish  :  —  be  it  so  ! 
Enough,  if  something  from  our  hands  have  power 
To  live  and  act,  and  serve  the  future  hour; 
And  if,  as  toward  the  silent  tomb  we  go. 
Through  love,  through  hope,  and  faith's  transcendent 

dower. 
We  feel  that  we  are  greater  than  we  know." 

A  third  series  is  entitled  "  Sonnets  Dedicated  to 
Liberty,"  reminding  us  by  their  title  and  content 
of  the  great  Puritan  sonneteer  who  preceded 
Wordsworth,  and  sounded  the  note  of  personal 
and  national  freedom  so  loud  and  long  as  to  catch 
the  ear  of  all  England.  In  this  series  there  are 
sixty-eight  selections,  divided  into  two  parts  or 
sections ;  one  of  them,  the  thirty-fourth,  departing 
from  the  ordinary  sonnet  structure.  It  is  in  this 
series  that  we  find  some  examples  of  special  note, 
such  as  the  one  "  To  Toussaint  I'Ouverture," — 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      177 


"  the  most  unhappy  man  of  men ! 

Yet  die  not ;  do  thou 
Wear  rather  in  thy  bonds  a  cheerful  brow 
Though  fallen  thyself,  never  to  rise  again, 
Live,  and  take  comfort.    Thou  hast  left  behind 
Powers  that  will  work  for  thee ;  air,  earth,  and  skies ; 
There's  not  a  breathing  of  the  common  wind 
That  will  forget  thee;  thou  hast  great  allies; 
Thy  friends  are  exultations,  agonies. 
And  love,  and  man's  unconquerable  mind." 

In  the  twelfth,  we  have  the  striking  couplet, 

"  Two  voices  are  there ;  one  is  of  the  sea, 
One  of  the  mountains ;  each  a  mighty  voice." 

In  the  thirteenth,  are  the  famous  lines, 

"  Plain  living  and  high  thinking  are  no  more ; 
The  homely  beauty  of  the  good  old  cause 
Is  gone." 

The  fourteenth  is  one  of  the  historic  sonnets  of 
literature,  as  we  read  the  poet's  tribute  to  his 
great  forerunner, 

"  Milton !  thou  should'st  be  living  at  this  hour : 
England  hath  need  of  thee." 

So,  in  the  sixteenth,  the  equally  famous  lines, 

"  We  must  be  free  or  die,  who  speak  the  tongue 
That  Shakespeare  spoke ;  the  faith  and  morals  hold 
Which  Milton  held." 

In  the  ninth  stanza.  Part  Second,  we  have  a  stir- 


178  Special  Discussions 

ring  sonnet  to  the  Tyrolese  hero,  "  Hoffer,"  as  in 
the  eleventh  an  appeal  to  the  loyalty  of  the  Ty- 
rolese : — 

"  The  land  we  from  our  fathers  had  in  trust, 
And  to  our  children  will  transmit,  or  die: 
This  is  our  maxim,  this  our  piety; 
And  God  and  Nature  say  that  it  is  just." 

Nowhere  else  does  Wordsworth  sound  a  truer 
note  than  in  these  utterances  on  behalf  of  political 
liberty  and  the  rights  of  man,  and  nowhere  have 
his  poetic  sentiments  a  more  distinctively  Mil- 
tonic  movement,  so  that  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries  are  thus  conjoined  in  their 
impassioned  plea  for  common  justice. 

A  fourth  series  is  made  up  of  "  Miscellaneous 
Sonnets,"  Parts  First  and  Second,  ninety-seven  in 
all;  some  of  the  examples  being  especially  impres- 
sive. It  is  quite  noticeable  that  in  each  of  the 
parts  there  is  a  sonnet  in  defense  of  this  particu- 
lar type  of  lyric,  the  second  selection  of  Part  First 
beginning 

"  Nuns  fret  not  at  their  convent's  narrow  room  " ; 
and  the  opening  stanza  of  Part  Second, 

"  Scorn  not  the  sonnet." 
Some  of  the  most   noteworthy  in   Part   First   are 


sponsor  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      179 

the  following :  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth,  "  To 
Sleep,"  opening  so  beautifully, 

"  A  flock  of  sheep  that  leisurely  pass  by, 
One  after  one;  the  sound  of  rain,  and  bees 
Murmuring;  the  fall  of  rivers,  winds  and  seas. 
Smooth  fields,  white  sheets  of  water,  and  pure  sky; 
By  turns  have  all  been  thought  of,  yet  I  lie 
Sleepless  " ; 

the  twenty-fourth,  "  The  Decay  of  Piety " ;  the 
thirty-second,  with  its  exquisite  lines 

"  It  is  a  beauteous  evening,  calm  and  free, 
The  holy  time  is  quiet  as  a  Nun 
Breathless  with,  adoration  "  ; 

the  thirty-fifth,  so  often  quoted, 

"  The  world  is  so  much  with  us ;  late  and  soon, 
Getting  and  spending,  we  lay  waste  our  powers." 

In  Part  Second,  the  eleventh  opens, 

"  There  is  a  pleasure  in  poetic  pains 
Which  only  poets  know  "  ; 

and  the  twenty-sixth,  in  which  the  poet  represents 
himself  as  standing  on  Westminster  Bridge  in  the 
early  morning  just  before  the  great  city  is  waking 
into  life, 

"  Dull  would  he  be  of  soul  who  could  pass  by 
A  sight  so  touching  in  its  majesty." 

A    collection    known    as    "  Memorials    of    a    Tour 


180  Special  Discussions 

on  the  Continent "  contains,  among  other  forms 
of  lyrics,  seventeen  examples  of  sonnets,  that 
might  be  included  under  the  miscellaneous  order, 
in  which  the  poet  makes  reference  to  such  Con- 
tinental places  and  scenes  as  Calais,  Bruges, 
Waterloo,  Liege,  Cologne,  the  Rhine,  the  .Dan- 
ube, Lauterbrunnen,  St.  Gothard,  Milan,  Aix-la- 
Chapelle,  Chamouni,  Boulogne,  and  Dover,  the 
less  distinctive  merit  of  these  selections,  as  com- 
pared with  the  others  cited,  strikingly  revealing 
the  fact  that  the  poet  was  more  at  home  and  more 
the  master  of  his  art  when  among  the  hills  and 
vales  of  his  native  England.  The  valley  of  Gras- 
mere  was  far  more  to  him  than  the  valley  of 
Dover  or  Chamouni,  and  Derwentwater  than  Lake 
Como  and  Brienz. 

A  single  sonnet,  the  fourteenth  in  the  series, 
entitled  "  Epitaphs  and  Elegiac  Poems,"  may  be 
said  to  complete  the  more  than  three  hundred  son- 
nets represented  in  the  several  series  we  have 
studied,  a  content  and  range  and  quality,  despite 
all  defects  and  limitations,  that  justly  entitle  the 
author  to  a  place  in  the  first  list  of  English  son- 
neteers where  Shakespeare  and  Spenser  and  Mil- 
ton had  already  set  the  form  and  established  the 
record. 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      181 

SOME   LATER   SONNETEERS 

As  the  history  of  our  Hterature  develops  from 
the  days  of  Wordsworth  to  the  time  of  Victoria 
and  throughout  her  illustrious  reign,  it  is  a  sig- 
nificant fact,  and  yet  in  the  line  of  normal  poetic 
process,  that  we  have  from  nearly  every  leading 
English  poet  from  Coleridge  to  Swinburne  some 
examples  of  the  sonnet  stanza,  expressed  in  vary- 
ing forms  of  rhyme  and  with  varying  degrees  of 
excellence.  Lyric  verse  in  general  assumed  com- 
manding prominence  at  the  opening  of  the  Ro- 
mantic Era,  and  in  the  later  literature  the  sonnet 
shared  in  this  poetic  revival,  as  being  fully  in 
keeping  with  what  Courthope  has  called  the  "  Lib- 
eral Movement  in  English  Literature,"  which  was 
primarily  a  poetic  and  lyrical  movement.  A  brief 
study  of  some  of  the  leading  names  of  this  list 
will  be  full  of  interest. 

The  first  that  suggests  itself  is  that  of  Keats, 
author  of  but  a  few  sonnets,  twenty-four  in  all, 
and  yet  of  substantive  merit  along  this  line  of 
lyric,  and  characterized  by  that  same  exquisite 
classical  taste  that  marks  his  "  Eve  of  St.  Agnes  " 
and  "  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn."  He  was  a  kind  of 
transitional  sonneteer  between  the  earlier  and  later 


182  Special  Discussions 

eras,  the  last  of  the  Georgians,  as  Milton  was  the 
last  of  the  Elizabethans.  Some  of  these  are  es- 
pecially beautiful,  as  that  beginning, 

"  As  late  I  rambled  in  the  happy  fields, 
What  time  the  skylark  shakes  the  tremulous  dew 
From  his  lush  clover  covert." 

So,  the  one, 

"  O  solitude !  if  I  must  with  thee  dwell, 

where  the  deer's  swift  leap 
Startles  the  wild  bee  from  the  foxglove  bell." 

So,  the  tenth, 

"  To  one  who  ihas  been  long  in  city  pent 
Tis  very  sweet  to  look  into  the  fair 
And  open  face  of  heaven." 

His  sonnet  "  On  First  Looking  into  Chapman's 
Homer "  is  justly  celebrated,  while  among  those 
entitled  "  Posthuma "  there  are  two  of  special 
charm,  the  first, 

"  When  I  have  fears  that  I  may  cease  to  be," 

and  the  fifth,  "  The  Human  Seasons," 

"  Four  seasons  fill  the  measure  of  the  year 
There  are  four  seasons  in  the  mind  of  man." 

Saintsbury  speaks  of  Keats  as  a  "  germinal  "  poet, 
the  "  father  of  every  English  poet  born  within  the 
present  century."    "  He  begot  Tennyson,  and  Ten- 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      183 

nyson  begat  all  the  rest,"  words  of  eulogy  which, 
applicable  alike  to  the  sonnets  and  all  his  verse, 
indicate  not  so  much  any  large  amount  of  poetic 
product  or  any  epic  and  dramatic  gift,  but  that 
"  new  note  "  which  he  struck  in  the  poetry  of  his 
time  and  the  fresh  inspiration  that  he  gave  to  his 
generation  just  when  it  was  most  needed.  The 
ten  or  twelve  sonnets  of  Coleridge,  whose  literary 
repute  lay  in  prose  and  other  forms  of  verse ;  Shel- 
ley's sonnet  "  To  Wordsworth,"  which  makes  us 
regret  that  he  confined  his  lyric  product  of  this 
order  to  a  half-dozen  examples ;  and  Moore's 
Songs  and  Melodies,  which  have  endeared  him  to 
every  lover  of  verse,  though  lying  outside  the  son- 
net circle,  need  not  detain  us  in  the  poetic  survey 
now  in  hand.  Even  Tennyson,  the  acknowledged 
poetic  master  of  his  age,  so  seldom  essayed  this 
structure  that  it  scarcely  enters  into  the  examina- 
tion of  his  work;  while  Robert  Browning's  Lyrics 
and  Idylls  were,  as  he  termed  them,  "  Dramatic," 
and  expressed  in  the  unrestricted  varieties  outside 
of  the  traditional  fourteen  lines  of  the  sonnet. 

The  sonnets  of  Matthew  Arnold,  twenty-five  in 
number,  deserve  more  than  a  passing  comment : 
such  as,  "  Quiet  Work,"  "  Youth's  Agitations," 
with  its  suggestive  close, 


184  Special  Discussions 

"  And  sigh  that  one  thing  only  has  been  lent 
To  youth  and  age  in  common  —  discontent," 

"Worldly  Place,"  "The  Better  Part,"  "Immor- 
tality," and  "  Shakespeare,"  scarcely  surpassed  in 
English  verse, 

"  Others  abide  our  question.    Thou  art  free. 
We  ask  and  ask  —  Thou  smilest  and  art  still, 
Out-topping   knowledge," — 

poems  in  which  this  serious-minded  author  seeks 
to  solve,  as  in  all  he  wrote,  the  complex  problem 
of  human  life,  —  a  problem  that  agitated  and 
evaded  him  down  to  the  day  of  his  death.  Clough, 
the  author  of  some  fifteen  sonnets,  is  naturally 
suggested  when  writing  of  Matthew  Arnold,  in 
that  his  soul  was  stirred  and  distressed  by  th€ 
same  unavailing  discussion  of  the  problem  of  life ; 
a  poet,  who,  according  to  Lowell,  "  will  be  thought 
a  hundred  years  hence,  to  have  been  the  truest 
expr-ession  in  verse  of  the  doubt  and  struggle 
toward  settled  convictions  of  the  period  in  which 
he  lived."  The  very  captions  of  his  sonnets  indi- 
cate this  feverish  unrest  of  spirit,  as  the  series  en- 
titled "  Blank  Misgivings,"  and  "  On  the  Thought 
of  Death."  Even  his  sonnet  "All  Is  Well"  is  a 
despondent  outburst  on  the  mystery  of  being,  as 
indicated  in  its  closing  couplet, 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      185 

"The  wind  it  blows,  the  ship  it  goes, 
Though  where  and  whither  no  one  knows." 

He    is   the    Omar    Khayyam    of    Modern    English 
verse. 

In  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti  we  have  a  representa- 
tive sonnet-writer,  worthily  continuing  the  lyric 
succession  already  established.  His  collection  of 
poems  entitled  "  The  House  of  Life,"  he  calls 
"A  Sonnet-Sequence,"  opening  with  an  introduc- 
tory sonnet  and  divided  into  two  extensive  parts 
—  Part  First,  "  Youth  and  Change,"  consisting  of 
fifty-nine  sonnets,  and  Part  Second,  "  Change  and 
Fate,"  of  forty-two ;  thus  exceeding  the  Spenserian 
limit  of  eighty-eight.  In  addition  to  this  elaborate 
series,  we  note  ''  Sonnets  on  Pictures,"  eleven  in 
number ;  and  ''  Sonnets  for  Works  of  Art,"  thir- 
teen in  all.  Among  his  "  Poems  in  Italian  "  there 
are  two  of  the  sonnet  order,  and  in  his  "  Miscel- 
laneous Poems  "  we  note  no  less  than  thirty-one 
selections,  making  a  total  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty-eight,  thus  surpassing  by  four  the  extended 
Shakespearean  collection.  To  cite  particular  son- 
nets from  this  elaborate  list  is  almost  invidious. 
The  most  representative  series  is  "  The  House  of 
Life,"  with  its  deep  emotive  quality,  reminding  us 
of  Spenser's    "  Amoretti "    and    Mrs.    Browning's 


186  Special  Discussions 

"  Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese  " ;  so  that  it  might 
well  be  called,  as  suggested,  "  The  House  of  Love." 
It  is  a  presentation  in  verse  of  the  philosophy  of 
life,  of  the  bitter-sweet  element  in  all  human  ex- 
perience, and  yet  submitted  in  hope  and  faith,  and 
thus  sharply  distinguished  in  tone  from  the  pessi- 
mistic strains  of  Arnold  and  Clough. 

Such  titles  as  "  Love  Enthroned,"  "  Heart's 
Hope,"  "  Life-In-Love,"  "  Love  and  Hope," 
"  Love's  Last  Gift,"  "  Transfigured  Life,"  "  Soul's 
Beauty,"  ''Lost  Days,"  "The  One  Hope,"  "Pas- 
sion and  Worship,"  will  serve  to  suggest  the 
dominance  of  feeling  and  the  sentiment  of  love. 
In  other  collections,  the  range  of  topics  is  wider, 
as  seen  in  "The  Church-Porch,"  "  Spring,"  "  Win- 
ter " ;  tributes  to  the  poets,  as  "  Coleridge," 
"  Keats,"  and  "  Shelley " ;  while  even  here  the 
purely  sentimental  dominates  the  mental,  and  con- 
firms the  consensus  of  literary  critics  that  Rossetti 
rarely  rises  to  the  Shakespearean  or  Miltonic  level 
as  a  sonnet-writer,  there  being,  as  Benson  states  it, 
"  a  passionate  voluptuousness  which  must  offend 
the  temperate  and  controlled  spirit."  The  emotion 
and  artistic  charm  are  present,  verbal  richness  and 
structural  beauty,  undoubted  poetic  personality  and 
a  consistent,  lyric  ideal,  but  little  that  stirs  the  bet- 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      187 

ter  nature  to  its  depths  or  lifts  the  reader  to  in- 
spiring experiences  and  outlook. 

In  opening  the  poems  of  Swinburne,  we  find,  as 
with  Burns  and  Moore  and  Byron,  comparatively 
few  examples  of  the  sonnet  proper,  his  lyric  prod- 
uct best  expressing  itself  in  ode  and  ballad  and 
song,  outside  the  limited  structure  of  the  sonnet 
stanza.  The  twenty-four  sonnets  under  the  cap- 
tion "  Dirae,"  and  some  half-dozen  others  in  "  Po- 
ems and  Ballads,"  such  as  "  Love  and  Sleep," 
"  The  White  Czar,"  "  To  Kossuth  "  and  "  To  Riz- 
pah,"  include  the  sum-total  of  his  work  along  this 
special  line,  and  evince  little  poetic  merit  above  the 
average.  We  look  in  vain  in  any  of  them  for  that 
peculiar  lyric  melody  and  charm  that  we  so  often 
find  in  such  collections  as  "  Songs  before  Sunrise" 
and  "  Songs  of  the  Springtide." 

In  Mrs.  Browning  we  have  a  more  distinctive 
sonnet-writer,  as  seen  in  her  two  collections,  — 
the  forty-five  examples  of  a  somewhat  miscella- 
neous nature,  and  the  forty-four  examples  under 
the  title  "  Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,"  which, 
as  we  know,  were  a  tribute  to  her  husband,  and 
have  no  special  reference  to  the  title  which  they 
bear.     As  Saintsbury  insists,  they  rank  ^'  with  the 


188  Special  Discussions 

noblest  efforts  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries  in  this  exquisite  form,"  *'  which  can  only 
be  paralleled,"  as  another  critic  states  it,  "  in  the 
immortal  lines  in  which  Dante  has  embalmed  the 
name  of  Beatrice."  "  Sonnets  from  her  own 
heart,"  they  have  fittingly  been  called,  as  she 
well-nigh  exhausts  the  deep  devotion  of  her  ar- 
dent nature  in  her  attempt  fully  to  embody  her 
truly  passionate  love.  In  their  pervasive  emotive 
quality  they  are  thus  superior  to  the  "Amoretti  " 
of  Spenser  and  Rossetti's  *'  ETouse  of  Life,"  where 
the  dominance  of  mere  personal  sentiment  so  often 
degenerates  into  fulsome  amatory  tribute,  so  as  to 
impair  the  mental  vigor  of  the  stanzas  and  far  re- 
move them  from  the  virile  verses  of  Milton  and 
Wordsworth.  Constituting,  as  they  do,  a  cycle  of 
elegies,  we  are  reminded,  as  we  read  them,  of 
the  "  In  Memoriam  "  of  Tennyson,  though  Mrs. 
Browning's  most  zealous  defenders  would  not  in- 
sist upon  placing  these  selections  on  the  same 
poetic  level  with  the  Laureate's  elegy.  Worthy  of 
all  praise  as  a  tender  tribute  to  a  lost  husband, 
they  seldom  rise  to  the  level  of  poetry  that  can 
be  called  great.  Indeed,  it  is  in  her  Miscellaneous 
Sonnets,   as   we   view   them,   that   Mrs.   Browning 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      189 

is  best  seen  in  this  form  of  -lyric,  where  she  feels 
herself  at  liberty  to  go  out  beyond  the  narrow 
limits  of  personal  sorrow  and  choose  her  themes 
in  the  wider  world  of  human  thought  and  life. 
Hence,  on  such  topics  as  "  The  Soul's  Expres- 
sion," "  The  Seraph  and  Poet,"  *'  On  a  Portrait 
of  Wordsworth,"  "  Work,"  "  Futurity,"  *'  Finite 
and  Infinite,"  *'  Insufficiency,"  and  "  Life "  the 
author  gives  us  suggestive  and  often  inspiring 
stanzas,  marked  alike  by  intellectual  and  emotive 
vitality  and  literary  art.  The  first  one  of  the  col- 
lection —  *'  The  Soul's  Expression  " —  is  as  repre- 
sentative as  any  of  this  higher  type, 

"  With  stammering   lips  and   insufficient   sound 
I  strive  and  struggle  to  deliver  right 
That  music  of  my  nature,  day  and  night 
With  dream  and  thought  and  feeling  interwound, 
And  inly  answering  all  the  senses  round 
With  octaves  of  a  mystic  depth  and  height 
Which  step  out  grandly  to  the  infinite 
From  the  dark  edges  of  the  sensual  ground. 
This  song  of  soul  I  struggle  to  outbear 
Through  portals  of  the  sense,  sublime  and  whole, 
And  utter  all  myself  into  the  air : 
But  if  I  did  it,  —  as  the  thunder-roll 
Breaks  its  own  cloud,  my  flesh  would  perish  there, 
Before  that  dread  apocalypse  of  soul." 

The  sonnet  entitled  "  Insufficiency  "  is  of  this  same 
ennobling  order. 


190  Special  Discussions 

"When  I  attain  to  litter  forth  in  verse 
Some  inward  thought,  my  soul  throbs  audibly 
Along  my  pulses,  yearning  to  be  free 
And  something  farther,  fuller,   higher,   rehearse." 

Here  we  have  the  inward  and  passionate  strug- 
gle toward  self-expression,  the  chafing  of  the 
spirit  under  the  restraints  of  the  flesh,  and  the  out- 
look of  the  finite  into  the  realm  and  glories  of  the 
infinite. 

Thus  have  we  seen  from  a  brief  survey  of  the 
English  sonnet  from  Spenser  to  Mrs.  Browning 
that  it  partakes  of  the  general  history  of  our  liter- 
ature in  its  substantive  features,  and  in  the  diver- 
sity of  excellence  that  it  exhibits  as  the  literature 
develops,  though  it  cannot  be  said  to  have  reached 
that  maximum  merit  to  which  the  English  poetry 
as  a  whole  attained  in  the  Victorian  Era.  The  two 
master-poets  of  the  age,  Tennyson  and  Browning, 
scarcely  acknowledged  its  claims,  while  most  of 
those  who  essayed  to  illustrate  it,  as  Matthew 
Arnold  and  Swinburne,  seemed  to  reserve  their 
best  poetic  skill  and  vigor  for  other  forms  of 
verse.  It  is  possible  that  the  golden  age  of  the 
sonnet-lyric  is  yet  to  appear  as  our  literary  his- 
tory expands.  Certain  it  is  that  our  vernacular 
verse   cannot   well   dispense   with   so   historic   and 


Spenser  and  Later  English  Sonneteers      191 

attractive  a  form.  While  its  required  structure 
may  be  said  to  limit  in  a  sense  the  play  of  the 
poetic  imagination  and  hold  the  poet  somewhat  too 
strictly  within  a  definitely  determined  province, 
this  very  limitation  tends  to  concentrate  poetic 
genius  and  by  the  pronounced  emphasis  of  the 
quality  of  the  verse  more  than  atone  for  mere 
amount  of  poetic  product.  Though  our  American 
Poe  was  wrong  when  he  insisted  that  a  long  poem 
is  a  contradiction  in  terms,  there  is  a  sense  in 
which  as  a  poem  develops  in  unlimited  freedom, 
the  quantitative  tends  to  take  the  place  of  the 
qualitative  and  the  poet's  power  abates  as  the 
composition  of  his  verse  continues. 

Especially  in  the  province  of  the  lyric  is  this 
principle  of  brevity  important,  in  that  the  expres- 
sion of  feeling  should  be  held  steadily  under  ra- 
tional control  lest  it  pass  the  borders  of  the  sane 
and  wholesome  in  poetic  art.  Even  poetic  license 
must  have  its  metes  and  bounds;  while,  on  the 
principle  of  literary  variety,  epic  and  dramatic 
verse  and  the  larger  examples  of  the  lyric  stand 
in  need  of  this  "  little  song  "  to  complete  the  cycle 
of  poetic  forms  and  insure  the  most  beneficent 
poetic  effect. 


Ill 

THE  SONNETS  OF  SHAKESPEARE 

One   of  the   later   and   best   English   sonneteers 
thus  writes  upon  the  excellence  of  the  sonnet : — 

"  Scorn  not  the  Sonnet ;  Critic,  you  have  frowned; 
Mindless  of  its  just  honours;  with  this  key 
Shaliespeare  unloclj;ed  his  heart;  the  melody 
Of  this  small  lute  gave  ease  to  Petrarch's  wound ; 
A  thousand  times  this  pipe  did  Tasso  sound ; 
Camoens  soothed  with  it  an  exile's  grief ; 
The  Sonnet  glittered  a  gay  myrtle  leaf 
Amid  the  cypress  with  which  Dante  crowned 
His  visionary  brow :  a  glow-worm  lamp, 
It  cheered  mild  Spenser,  called  from  Faery-land 
To  struggle  through  dark  ways;  and,  when  a  damp 
Fell  round  the  path  of  Milton,  in  his  hand 
The  Thing  became  a  trumpet ;  whence  he  blew 
Soul-animating   strains  —  alas,   too   few!" 

These  Hues  and  the  additional  sonnets  which 
Wordsworth  wrote  are  sufficient  to  indicate  his 
personal  and  literary  estimate  of  their  value  and 
the  high  place  they  sustain  in  developing  English 
verse.  Involving  all  known  poetic  forms,  the  epic, 
dramatic,  lyric,  descriptive,  and  didactic,  express- 
ing all  the  varied  feelings  of  the  human  heart,  and 
related  historically  to  the  consecutive  growth  of 
192 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  193 

English  and  Continental  Letters,  they  not  only 
make  a  claim  on  the  attention  of  the  literary  stu- 
dent, but  well  repay  that  attention  by  the  manner 
in  which  they  minister  to  literary  art  and  taste. 
The  origin  and  earliest  history  of  the  English 
sonnet  takes  us  back  to  the  twelfth  century  of 
Italian  letters,  in  the  territory  of  Provence,  and 
to  the  long  list  of  Italian  sonneteers  —  Dante,  Pe- 
trarch, Alfieri,  Tasso,  Ariosto,  and  Boccaccio,  some 
of  whom,  as  Petrarch,  did  no  better  work  than  in 
this  sphere,  and  all  of  whom,  even  Dante,  intensi- 
fied thereby  the  interest  and  profit  of  their  work 
as  poets.  The  sonnet  was  thus  at  home  in  Italy, 
and  Italy's  greatest  poets  were  equally  at  home 
in  its  composition  and  interpretation.  It  was  but 
natural,  therefore,  that  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the 
Eighth,  at  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
when  Italian  literature  was  in  high  repute  in  Eu- 
rope, and  was  exerting  unwonted  influence  in 
English  verse,  the  sonnets  of  Petrarch  and  his  con- 
temporaries should  come  into  prominence  in  Eng- 
land and  directly  modify  the  poetic  product  of  the 
most  notable  authors  of  the  time.  This  they  did, 
and  the  impression  is  particularly  noticeable  in  the 
poetry  of  Wyatt  and  Surrey.  In  fact,  the  oldest 
sonnet  in   English  is   a   translation  of  one  of  Pe- 


194  Special  Discussions 

trarch's  by  Wyatt  —  his  co-worker  (Surrey),  how- 
ever, excelling  him  in  this  particular  form.  Critics 
have  naturally  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  we 
have  no  sonnet  distinctively  from  Chaucer,  even 
though  he  was  an  Italian  scholar,  a  resident  for  a 
time  in  Italy,  acquainted  especially  with  the  poetry 
of  Petrarch,  whom,  perhaps,  he  had  seen  in  person, 
and  strongly  inclined,  as  a  poet,  to  the  subject  of 
love  and  sentiment.  For  this  singular  result  cer- 
tain reasons  have  been  assigned  —  that  the  con- 
nection of  the  English  court,  at  the  time,  was 
closer  with  France  than  with  Italy;  that  the  great 
Italian  sonneteers  had  not  as  yet  become  current 
in  England,  and  that  Chaucer's  governing  ten- 
dency in  verse  was  toward  the  dramatic  and  de- 
scriptive rather  than  the  lyrical.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  the  fact  is  that,  though  Chaucer  exhibited, 
in  some  of  his  shorter  poems,  the  substantive  qual- 
ities of  the  sonnet  as  lyric,  nothing  of  its  external 
form  is  found.  After  the  sonnet  had  been  fairly 
introduced  in  the  Elizabethan  Era,  many  poets  of 
greater  or  lesser  fame  essayed  it  —  Raleigh,  Sid- 
ney, Spenser  in  his  "Amoretti,"  so  suggestively 
Italian,  Jonson,  and  Drummond,  and,  later  in  the 
history,  Milton,  who  especially  illustrates  the  in- 
fluence of  South-European  models  by  writing  some 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  195 

of  his  sonnets  in  Italian.  Such  an  example  as 
"  The  Massacre  of  Piedmont "  is  directly  sug- 
gestive of  Italian  civil  and  religious  history. 

As  to  the  nature  and  structure  of  the  sonnet, 
it  may  be  said  that  there  is  no  form  of  English 
verse  more  definite,  and  none  for  the  violation  of 
which  there  is  less  tolerance,  among  literary  crit- 
ics. Whatever  its  theme  or  general  character,  it 
must  be  short,  as  ode  or  ballad,  canto  or  idyll, 
made  up  specifically  of  fourteen  lines,  divided  into 
the  major  and  minor  sections,  of  eight  and  six 
lines  respectively  (the  octave  and  sextette),  there 
being  two  rhymes  in  the  one  and  three  in  the 
other,  the  rhymes  diflfering  in  the  two  divisions. 
These  conditions  are  rigorous.  As  has  been  said, 
*'  The  requirements  of  the  drama,  nay,  even  of  the 
epic,  are  not  proportionately  greater."  "  The 
steadiness  of  hand,"  writes  Forman,  "  and  clear- 
ness of  mind  required  for  rounding  into  the 
invariable  limit  of  fourteen  iambic  lines  some 
weighty  matter  of  thought  or  delicate  subtlety  of 
feeling  is  not  easy  to  overrate."  Thus  the  form 
as  well  as  the  character  of  our  English  sonnet  has 
been  taken  from  the  Italian.  So,  it  might  seem, 
at  first  sight,  that  a  structure  so  imperious  and 
rigid    would    not    be    a    popular    one    either    with 


196  Special  Discussions 

author  or  reader.  The  reverse  has  been  found  to 
be  true,  its  very  definiteness  acting  as  a  protection 
against  undue  poetic  Hcense,  and  holding  the  poet 
closely  to  the  fundamental  law  that  it  shall  have 
one  leading  idea,  with  a  free  variety  of  rhyme. 

It  is  thus  that  Wordsworth,  in  a  sonnet  on  the 
sonnet,  justifies  this  accepted  form  as  a  helpful 
restriction : — 

"  Nuns  fret  not  at  their  convent's  narrow  room ; 
And  hermits  are  contented  with  their  cells ; 
And  students  with  their  pensive  citadels ; 
Maids  at  the  wheel,  the  weaver  at  his  loom, 
Sit  blithe  and  happy ;  bees  that  soar  for  bloom, 
High  as  the  highest  Peak  of  Furness-fells, 
Will  murmur  by  the  hour  in  foxglove  bells : 
In  truth,  the  prison,  unto  which  we  doom 
Ourselves,  no  prison  is:   and  hence  to  me, 
In  sundry  moods,  'twas  pastime  to  be  bound 
Within  the  Sonnet's  scanty  plot  of  ground; 
Pleased  if  some  souls  (for  such  there  needs  must  be) 
Who  have  felt  the  weight  of  too  much  liberty, 
Should  find  short  solace  there,  as  I  have  found." 

Here  and  there,  as  in  Milton,  there  is  a  depart- 
ure from  the  prescribed  form  as  to  lines  and 
meter,  but  never  a  departure  from  this  law  of 
unity  and  continuity  of  idea.  As  to  possible  de- 
viation of  structure,  there  are  two  types  that  may 
be  said  to  have  both  foreign  and  native  sanction. 
The  one  is  that  which  contains  three  regular  quat- 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  197 

rains  and  a  couplet,  as  in  Coleridge  and  Shake- 
speare. The  other  and  more  exceptional  form 
contains  in  the  major  two  kinds  of  quatrain  —  the 
regular  (in  which  the  first  and  third  lines  and  the 
second  and  fourth  rhyme)  and  the  Tennysonian 
(in  which  the  first  and  fourth  and  the  second  and 
third  lines  rhyme) — and  in  the  minor  has  three 
alternately  rhyming  couplets,  as  in  some  of  the 
sonnets  of  Byron.  From  the  fact  that  Shakespeare 
has  used  the  first  of  these  varying  forms,  it  has 
become  widely  sanctioned,  one  of  his  collection 
(cxxvi.)  having  but  twelve  lines,  and  one  of  them 
(cxlv.)  having  the  tetrameter  instead  of  the  pen- 
tameter line.  These  deviations  are  allowed,  on 
grounds  of  variety  and  final  effect.  It  is  thus  that 
Matthew  Arnold  refers  to  Goethe  approvingly  as 
preferring  substance  to  technique,  or  if  we  must 
have  technique,  that  it  be  "  organic  and  not  con- 
ventional." No  poetry  can  afford  to  emphasize 
unduly  what  has  been  called  the  "etiquette  of  form," 
the  sacrifice  of  sense  and  sentiment  to  structure.  In 
all  literature,  the  creative  must  control  the  artistic 
and  no  law  or  method  be  so  inflexible  as  never  to 
allow  of  modification  in  the  interests  of  truth  and 
lasting  effect.  Here,  again,  Shakespeare  evinced 
his  poetic  genius. 


198  Special  Discussions 

THE   SONNETS    OF    SHAKESPEARE 

These,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Spenser's 
"Amoretti,"  are  the  only  sonnets  of  special  merit 
prior  to  Milton.  We  notice  the  first  mention  of 
them  in  1598,  in  Meres's  "  Palladis  Tamia,"  their 
first  publication  being  in  1609,  but  a  few  years  af- 
ter the  close  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  Naturally, 
from  their  first  appearance  down  to  this  day  these 
poems  have  invited  unwonted  interest  and  study; 
partly,  because  of  their  intrinsic  merit  thus  early  in 
the  history  of  English  literature;  and,  mainly,  be- 
cause they  are  Shakespeare's,  whose  chief  distinc- 
tion lies  within  the  separate  province  of  dramatic 
verse.  Thus  we  have  extant  a  large  body  of 
Shakespearean  sonnet-literature,  quite  apart  from 
that  pertaining  to  the  plays,  every  Shakespearean 
critic  devoting  some  attention  thereto,  and  writers 
such  as  Leigh  Hunt  and  Massey,  Palgrave  and 
Dowden,  giving  special  space  to  their   discussion. 

The  number  of  his  sonnets  is  one  hundred  and 
fifty-four,  probably  produced  between  1590  and 
1605,  though  the  exact  period  must  always  remain 
a  matter  of  conjecture.  So  as  to  the  one  to  whom 
they  are  addressed  critical  opinion  has  naturally 
varied,  whether  to  a  male  or  female  friend,  and,  if 
to  the  former,  whether  to  the  Earl  of  Southampton 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  199 

or  to  Lord  Pembroke.  "  It  seems  to  me,"  writes 
Coleridge,  "  that  the  sonnets  could  only  have  come 
from  a  man  deeply  in  love,  and  in  love  with  a 
woman  " ;  while  the  historian  Hallam,  on  the  con- 
trary, affirms  that  such  a  notion  is  utterly  "  unten- 
able." They  have  been  referred  to  Raleigh  as  their 
object;  to  Elizabeth;  to  Hamnet,  Shakespeare's 
son;  and  to  some  imaginary  person,  male  or  fe- 
male, their  relation  to  Southampton  having  the 
weight  of  authority.  So  cautious  a  critic  as  Hud- 
son thus  writes :  "  It  will  take  more  than  has  as 
yet  appeared  to  convince  me  that  when  the  poet 
wrote  these  and  similar  lines  his  thoughts  were 
traveling  anywhere  but  home  to  the  bride  of  his 
youth  and  the  mother  of  his  children."  Even  their 
authorship  is  in  question,  referred  by  some,  as  the 
plays  have  been,  to  Bacon,  and  with  as  little  rea- 
son. Raleigh,  also,  has  been  cited  as  the  author. 
As  to  the  subject-matter  and  purpose  of  the  son- 
nets, a  still  wider  variety  of  view  has  been  taken, 
a  topic  second  to  no  other  in  its  importance  as  de- 
termining their  true  place  in  English  letters. 

The  question  that  first  arises  is  as  to  their  auto- 
biographical character.  Have  they  such  a  char- 
acter at  all  and,  if  so,  to  what  extent?  According 
to   Dowden,   this   theory   is    invested   with    serious 


200  Special  Discussions 

difficulties;  while  such  a  critic  as  Dyce  concedes 
that  a  few  of  them,  at  least,  may  have  such  a  bear- 
ing. Wordsworth's  phrase  that  in  them  Shake- 
speare "  unlocked  his  heart "  has  been  pressed  into 
the  service  of  this  theory.  The  theory,  as  a  whole, 
is  vitally  connected  with  the  question  of  the  rela- 
tion of  the  sonnets  to  each  other,  —  whether  or 
not  they  are  marked  by  unity  and  sequence,  and 
were  written  by  Shakespeare  in  serial  form,  and 
with  reference  to  some  leading  purpose  or  chain 
of  events.  Modern  criticism  has  substantially 
agreed  as  to  the  twofold  division  of  the  sonnets ; 
the  first  (i.-cxxv.)  addressed  to  some  male  friend, 
as  Southampton;  and  the  second  (cxxvii.-cliv.) 
addressed  to  some  female  friend,  "  the  dark- 
haired  "  woman  of  his  love,  the  "  mysterious 
heroine,"  sonnet  cxxvi.  being  an  envoy,  lying  be- 
tween the  two  divisions.  In  this  classification,  the 
autobiographical  feature  would  be  more  promi- 
nent in  the  second  section.  Beyond  this  analysis, 
critics  have  found  groups  and  subgroups  of  dif- 
ferent members  and  orders,  arranged  largely  on  the 
basis  of  a  more  or  less  distant  relation  to  the  po- 
et's life  and  history.  Thus  Browne  divides  them 
into  six  groups;  all,  save  the  last,  being  addressed 
to   his   friend   the  Earl   of   Pembroke,   save   those 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  201 

(cxxvii -clii.)  to  his  female  friend  on  her  infideHty. 
Without  exception,  however,  they  are,  as  he  holds, 
leaves  from  the  life  of  the  author.  Others  divide 
them  into  four  groups.  Some  contend  that  the 
first  of  the  two  large  groups  is  autobiographical, 
and  the  second,  dramatic ;  while  other  critics  argue 
that  they  are,  throughout,  fictitious  and  visionary. 
Here,  again,  the  facts  are  so  meager  and  untrust- 
worthy that  every  intelligent  reader  must  be  left 
to  his  own  judgment  as  to  just  how  and  to  what 
extent  the  poet  appears  in  them.  In  his  plays,  as 
we  know,  he  has  succeeded  in  so  concealing  him- 
self that  the  closest  inspection  has  not  been  able  to 
detect  his  personality.  They  are  wholly  impersonal 
and  objective,  and  representative  of  human  nature 
as  such.  Reasoning  by  analogy,  we  would  not 
expect  to  find  much,  if  any,  of  such  personal  ref- 
erence in  the  sonnets ;  while^  on  the  other 
hand,  they  are  the  distinctive  type  of  verse  in 
which  an  author  appears  and  expresses  his  inner- 
most life.  It  would  be  natural,  if  Shakespeare, 
true  to  the  genius  of  lyric  poetry,  had  really  "  un- 
locked his  heart."  As  to  the  subject-matter  and 
purpose,  a  second  view  is,  that  the  sonnets  are 
allegorical,  addressing  ideal  manhood  or  dramatic 
art  or  the  spirit  of  beauty,  or,  perchance,  the  poet's 


202  Special  Discussions 

ideal  self,  or  the  reformed  church  of  England;  the 
"  dark  woman  "  of  the  closing  sonnets  being  the 
bride  of  the  Canticles,  the  pure  church  of  Christ. 
So  careful  a  critic  as  Fleay  carried  this  mythical 
and  metaphysical  theory  to  the  most  pronounced 
extreme,  making  all  the  allusions  subjective;  even 
the  poet's  "  lameness  "  referred  to  in  sonnet  Ixxxix. 
being  that  of  his  verse. 

It  is  clear  that  such  an  order  of  interpretation 
as  this  would  know  no  rational  bounds,  the  advo- 
cates of  it  being  driven,  perforce,  to  the  wildest 
conjectures  as  to  this  or  that  sonnet,  and  being 
quite  unable  in  this  visionary  theory  to  unify  the 
sonnets  in  any  acceptable  manner.  Moreover,  the 
theory  is  entirely  out  of  keeping  with  the  person- 
ality and  purpose  of  the  poet,  who,  from  first  to 
last,  dealt  with  realities  in  nature  and  the  world 
and  aimed  directly  at  practical,  objective  ends.  A 
third  and  more  plausible  theory  effects  a  combina- 
tion of  the  two  already  mentioned,  finding  in  the 
sonnets  the  historical  and  the  imaginative,  truth 
and  romance,  and  so  interacting  as  that  each  gives 
to  the  other  something  of  its  own  character.  This 
is  the  view  of  Gerald  Massey,  by  which,  as  he 
thinks,  he  has  untied  all  knots  and  reconciled  all 
differences.     According  to  this  view,  we  have  the 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  203 

historical  element,  in  that  the  author  addresses 
sonnets  to  Southampton  as  a  friend;  and  then  the 
romantic  element,  in  that,  at  the  Earl's  request,  he 
writes  some,  personating  the  Earl,  to  his  much 
admired  Elizabeth  Vernon.  Personating  the  lady, 
also,  he  writes,  by  the  way  of  answer,  similar  son- 
nets of  affection  to  the  Earl.  Here  we  have  the 
union  of  fact  and  fiction;  the  insuperable  difficulty 
being  now  to  discriminate  between  the  two,  to 
assert  where  the  historical  ends  and  the  allegorical 
begins,  each  reader  being  left  to  his  own  prefer- 
ence and  method  of  interpretation.  Hence,  we 
resort  to  the  view  first  broached,  and  hold,  with 
such  critics  as  Palgrave,  Dowden,  Furnivale,  and 
Hallam,  that  the  sonnets  express  "  his  own  feeling 
in  his  own  person."  Nor  does  this  mean  that 
every  line  and  stanza  is  personal  and  may  be  re- 
ferred to  some  well-known  incident  or  experience 
in  the  poet's  life,  but  that  the  dominant  element  is 
the  autobiographic  one,  so  much  so  as  to  make  all 
else  secondary  and  compel  us  to  explain  it  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  accepted  theory.  Moreover, 
this  theory  meets  more  difficulties  than  any  other, 
has  less  difficulties  of  its  own  than  any  other,  and 
is  most  fully  in  accord  with  the  method  of  the 
plays;    for   not   only  are   the   historical   plays,   so- 


204  Special  Discussions 

called,  historical,  but  such  tragedies  as  **  Hamlet  " 
and  "  Othello  "  have  a  distinctive  historical  back- 
ground and  basis,  while  in  nearly  all  of  his 
dramatic  work  literature  and  life  are  conjoined, 
and  the  reader  is  never  allowed  long  to  wander  in 
the  territory  of  mere  romance. 

Turning  now  from  the  origin  and  purpose  of 
the  sonnets  to  their  intrinsic  poetic  quality,  we  note, 
first  of  all,  their  distinctive  lyrical  character. 
They  are  not  only  sonnets  but  lyric  sonnets, 
"  born,"  as  Dowden  states  it,  "  of  the  union  of 
heart  and  imagination " ;  penetrated,  as  Trench 
affirms,  ''  with  a  repressed  passion."  It  is  this 
impassioned  quality,  "  the  sensuous  and  passion- 
ate "  element  of  which  Milton  speaks,  that  first 
impresses  the  candid  reader,  so  that  he  can  be  in  no 
doubt  as  to  what  constitutes  their  leading  features. 
Whether  the  lyric  be  somber  or  sportive ;  whether 
love  rewarded  or  rejected  be  the  theme;  whether 
satisfaction  or  regret  be  the  result  of  his  reflec- 
tions upon  his  own  life,  in  every  instance  the  key- 
note is  lyric.  In  no  part  of  Shakespeare's  dramatic 
work  is  feeling  so  pronounced,  the  personal 
element  in  these  poems  being  largely  accountable 
for  such  a  decided  presence  of  the  emotional. 
Autobiography  naturally  takes  such  a  form.     An 


The  Somiets  of  Shakespeare  205 

additional  feature  is  their  mental  vigor,  "  charac- 
terized," as  Coleridge  expresses  it,  "  by  boundless 
fertility  of  thought " ;  or,  as  Trench  states  it, 
"  double-shotted  with  thought."  This  intellectual 
feature  is  well  worth  emphasizing,  partly,  to  il- 
lustrate the  oft-forgotten  connection  between 
poetry  and  thought ;  and,  partly,  to  maintain 
Shakespeare's  repute  as  a  thinker  in  verse  and  not 
a  mere  romanticist.  This  principle  is  especially 
important  in  the  sphere  of  lyric  verse  and  in  the 
composition  of  the  sonnet.  Here,  if  anywhere, 
sentiment  may  find  it  easy  to  take  the  place  of 
sense,  or,  at  least,  to  control  it.  In  the  sonnet, 
where  love  is  so  naturally  the  theme,  the  tempta- 
tion to  the  superficial  and  purely  amatory  is  so 
strong  that  not  a  few  of  our  sonneteers,  as  Sidney, 
have  succumbed  to  it.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  Shake- 
speare is  true  to  his  best  instincts;  and  while  the 
sonnets  are  not  intellectual  verse  in  the  sense  in 
which  ''  Hamlet  "  and  ''  Othello  "  are,  they  are 
sufficiently  so  to  maintain  the  close  relation  of  feel- 
ing to  thought.  As  to  each  of  these  features, 
emotion  and  mental  vigor,  the  sonnets,  of  course, 
differ  as  do  the  plays,  some  of  them  being  more 
conspicuously  good  than  others;   while  it  may  be 


206  Special  Discussions 

said  without  question  that  the  first  and  larger 
division  (i.-cxxv.)  is  by  far  the  more  intellectual 
of  the  two,  the  second  section  being  more  emotional 
and  often  to  the  borders  of  sensuous  passion. 
Some  of  the  more  notable  of  the  sonnets  are:  the 
twenty-ninth,  as  it  opens, 

"  When  in  disgrace  with  fortune  and  men's  eyes, 
I  all  alone  beweep  my  outcast  state  " ; 

the  thirtieth,  beginning, 

"  When  to  the  sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought 
I  summon  up  remembrance  of  things  past; 
I  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thing  I  sought, 
And  with  old  woes  new  wail  my  dear  time's  waste  " ; 

the  thirty-second,   opening, 

"  If  thou  survive  my  well-contented  day, 
When  that  churl  death  my  bones  with  dust  shall 
cover." 

Sonnet  xxxiii.  is  of  rare  beauty,  as  we  read: — 

"  Full  many  a  glorious  morning  have  I  seen 
Flatter  the  mountain-tops  with  sovereign  eye." 

So,  the  thirty-seventh,  , 

"  As  a  decrepit  father  takes  deligTit 
To  see  his  active  child  do  deeds  of  youth." 

In  the  fifty-fourth,  we  read: — 

"  O,  how^  much  more  doth  beauty  beauteous  seem, 
By  that  sweet  ornament  which  truth  doth  give!" 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  207 

In  the  sixty-sixth,  we  read : — 

"Tir'd  with  all  these,  for  restful  death  I  cry." 
In  the  seventy-first,  the  poet  sing's : — 

"  No  longer  mourn  for  me  when  I  am  dead." 

In  sonnets  Ixxiii.,  xci.,  xcvi.,  xcvii.,  and  cxvi., 
we  note  exceptionally  beautiful  specimens.  Few 
have  been  more  often  cited  than  the  one  hundred 
and  forty-sixth, 

"Poor  soul,  the  centre  of  my  sinful  earth, 
Pressed  by  these  rebel  pow'rs  that  thee  array." 

Apart  from  these  examples,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that,  in  many  of  the  sonnets  which,  as  a 
whole,  are  not  especially  excellent,  we  find  occa- 
sional lines  of  rare  poetic  beauty  as  well  as  of  per- 
sonal and  historical  interest.  It  is  this  feature 
which,  as  much  as  any  other,  makes  these  poems 
valuable,  both  on  the  literary  and  biographical 
side.     Thus,  in  the  second  one,  we  read: — 

"  When  forty  winters  shall  besiege  thy  brow, 
And  dig  deep  trenches  in  thy  beauty's  field." 

So,  in  the  third, 

"  Thou  art  thy  mother's  glass,  and  she  in  thee 
Calls  back  the  lovely  April  of  her  prime." 

In  the  twenty-third,  we  read, 

"O,  learn  to  read  what  silent  love  hath  writ." 


208  Special  Discussions 

In  the  twenty-ninth,  we  note  the  oft-quoted  line, 

"  Desiring  tliis  man's  art,  and  that  man's  scope." 

In  the  thirty-first,  are  the  lines, 

"  How  many  a  holy  and  obsequious  tear 
Hath  dear  religious  love  stol'n  from  mine  eye." 

In  the  sixtieth,  we  have  the  choice  couplet, 

"  Like  as  the  waves  make  towards  the  pebbled  shore, 
So  do  our  minutes  hasten  to  their  end." 

In  the  seventy-third,  are  the  lines, 

"  In  me  thou  seest  the  twilight  of  such  day 
As  after  sunset  fadeth  in  the  west," 

and  the  exquisite  line, 

"  Bare  ruin'd  choirs,  where  late  the  sweet  birds  sang." 

In  the  ninety-seventh,  we  note: — 

"  How  like  a  winter  hath  my  absence  been 
From  thee,  the  pleasure  of  the  fleeting  year!" 

Thus  the  lines  run  on  with  varying  beauty  and 
force,  notable  enough,  however,  to  give  Shake- 
speare the  honor  of  being  a  lyric  as  well  as  a 
dramatic  poet,  and  to  place  these  poems  in  the 
list  with  Milton's  and  Wordsworth's  as  marking 
the  highest  lyrical  level  reached  in  the  English 
sonnet. 

A  series  af  Open  Questions  as  to  Shakespeare 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  209 

and   his   sonnets  arise   from  this   survey,   and   we 
inquire : — 

1.  As  to  the  rival  poet  of  whom  he  so  sadly 
speaks.  Criticism  has  adduced  a  long  list  of 
names,  as  Spenser,  Marlowe,  Drayton,  Daniel, 
Chapman,  and  others,  and  an  unsettled  question  it 
remains. 

2.  As  to  the  "  dark-haired "  woman  of  the 
closing  sonnets, —  the  **  master-mistress  of  his  pas- 
sion." Who  she  was,  what  her  character  was, 
what  her  relations  to  Shakespeare  and  his  rival 
poet  were,  and  what  the  purpose  of  thus  address- 
ing her  in  verse  in  terms  of  such  endearment  and 
rebuke,  are  queries  "  ill  to  solve."  Possibly  she 
was  Southampton's  Elizabeth  Vernon;  or  Sidney's 
Stella,  the  disappointed  Lady  Rich  and  the  object 
of  Pembroke's  regard  as  a  rival  suitor;  or,  as 
Acheson  holds.  Mistress  Davenant. 

3.  A  closely  related  and  more  general  ques- 
tion pertains  to  the  personal  character  of  the  poet 
as  thus  revealed,  whether  good  or  bad,  whether 
socially  praiseworthy  or  doubtful,  a  question  forced 
upon  the  critic  by  the  second  section  of  the 
sonnets. 

Thus  in  one  of  them  (cxlii.)  he  writes:  "Love 
is  my  sin,"  and  in  another  (cxliv.)  : — 


210  Special  Discussions 

"Two  loves  I  have  of  comfort  and  despair 
Which  like  two  spirits  do  suggest  (tempt)  me  still ; 
The  better  angel  is  a  man  right  fair, 
The  worser  spirit  a  woman  coloured  ill. 
To  win  me  soon  to  hell." 

It  is  thus  that  Dowden  insists,  "  We  must  beheve 
that  Shakespeare  at  some  time  of  his  life  was  in- 
fluenced by  a  woman,  a  woman  faithless  to  her 
vow  in  wedlock."  It  is  indeed  this  struggle  be- 
tween his  better  and  his  baser  self  that  we  have 
given  us  in  this  second  series  (cxxvi.-cliv.),  with 
the  probable  result  that  the  better  self  prevailed. 
In  fine,  the  picture  of  the  poet's  character  in  the 
sonnets  is  not  altogether  inviting.  It  is  that  of 
"  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  "  and  "  Venus  and  Adonis," 
rather  than  that  of  "  Cymbeline  "  and  "  The  Tem- 
pest " ;  and  yet  all  praise  is  due  him  for  the  brave 
struggle  that  he  waged  in  an  age  when  it  was 
easy  enough  to  yield  and  to  fall,  nor  do  we  know 
in  literature  of  a  more  suggestive  example  of 
moral  struggle  than  this  one  of  the  sonnets,  even 
though  they  disclose  the  weaker  side  of  the 
author's  character. 

4.  A  further  question  would  run  as  follows : 
Do  they  increase  the  poet's  fame  as  a  poet?  Here, 
again,  there  is  a  wide  diversity  of  view.  "  It  is 
impossible,"   declares    Hallam,   "  not   to   wish   that 


The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  211 

Shakespeare  had  never  written  them,"  an  opinion 
to  which  Palgrave  objects.  Viewing  the  subject 
impartially,  we  must  insist  that  the  sonnets,  either 
on  their  personal  or  literary  side,  would  be  greatly 
missed.  There  are  enough  stanzas  of  merit  and 
scattered  lines  of  genuine  verse  to  reveal  the  poet's 
lyric  art,  and  thus  to  widen  out  the  already  com- 
prehensive scope  of  his  genius.  Not  to  be  com- 
pared with  the  plays,  they  are  still  unique,  and,  to 
this  extent,  indicative  of  genius.  Because  Milton 
in  *'  Samson  Agonistes "  fails  to  reach  the  level 
of  "  Comus,"  or  "  Paradise  Lost,"  we  do  not 
press  the  principle  of  destructive  criticism  to  its 
limit,  but  aim  to  reach  the  measure  of  average 
excellence.  So  we  deal  with  Tennyson  as  a  dra- 
matist and  lyrist.  That  Shakespeare  wrote  son- 
nets at  all  is  somewhat  surprising,  and  equally  so 
that  he  wrote  them  as  well  as  he  did. 

A  study  of  the  later  sonnets  of  our  literature 
as  thus  opened  is  made  especially  inviting,  on 
through  the  work  of  Milton  and  Byron,  Keats  and 
Wordsworth,  down  to  the  close  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  and  the  opening  of  the  twentieth,  not 
omitting  their  examination  as  revealed  in  the  pages 
of  our  own  American  poets.     It  was  our  gifted 


212  Special  Discussions 

American  poet  Gilder  who  asks,  and  answers  for 
us,  the  question  as  to  this  particular  form  of 
verse : — 

"What  is  a  sonnet?    'T  is  the  pearly  shell 
That  murmurs  of  the  far-off  murmuring  sea; 
A  precious  jewel  carved  most  curiously; 
It  is  a  little  picture  painted  well. 

It  is  the  tear  that  fell 
From  a  great  poet's  hidden  ecstasy." 


IV 
THE  POETRY  OF  COLERIDGE 

LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  son  of  Rev.  John 
C.  Coleridge,  of  Devonshire,  England  (Ottery  St. 
Mary),  Headmaster  of  the  Grammar  School,  was, 
from  the  first,  a  character  of  unique  and  even 
eccentric  interest.  As  he  says  of  his  own  boy- 
hood, '*  I  never  thought  as  a  child,  never  had  the 
language  of  a  child."  As  a  mere  lad,  he  was 
inquisitive  as  to  the  nature  and  reasons  of  things, 
speculative  and  imaginative,  cogitating  or  dream- 
ing when  his  companions  were  playing. 

At  school  at  *'  Christ's  Hospital,"  we  find  him 
at  Cambridge,  in  1791,  which  university,  for  some 
unexplained  reason,  he  suddenly  left,  enhsting  as 
a  private  in  the  Fifteenth  Light  Dragoons,  return- 
ing, however,  to  Cambridge  in  April,  1794.  In 
1795,  he  entered  on  the  role  of  a  lecturer  at  Bris- 
tol, a  city  of  importance  in  the  history  of  Cole- 
ridge, as  it  was  there  he  met  Southey,  whom  he 
had  seen  at  Oxford,  and  Lovell,  the  publisher, 
213 


214  Special  Discussions 

which  two  married  sisters  of  the  lady,  Miss 
Fricker,  whom  Coleridge  was  yet  to  marry.  His 
lectures,  *'  Conciones  ad  Populum,"  as  they  were 
called,  were  designed  to  be  popular,  political  dis- 
cussions, in  the  service  of  what  he  deemed  to  be 
the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  people.  In  1796,  a 
journalist  in  the  pages  of  The  Watchman  and, 
later,  in  The  Morning  Post  and  Morning  Chron- 
icle, and  The  Friend,  all  of  these  schemes  were  un- 
successful, as  might  have  been  supposed,  by  rea- 
son of  the  poet's  unfitness  for  such  a  line  of  work, 
and  the  capricious  nature  of  his  mind  and  plans. 
It  was  in  these  years  that  he  had  in  view,  with 
Southey  and  others,  his  pantisocratic  scheme,  a 
semi-socialistic  and  political  plan  to  be  carried  out 
in  republican  America,  on  the  banks  of  the  Sus- 
quehanna, a  species  of  romantic  adventure,  as  it 
would  seem,  especially  attractive  to  British  liter- 
ary minds.  Coleridge,  in  this  respect,  was  a 
fanatic,  making  plans  involving  large  capital, 
when  he  had  scarcely  funds  enough  at  his  com- 
mand to  meet  his  ordinary  expenses. 

In  1797-1800,  he  began  what  has  been  called 
his  critical  career,  as  a  student  of  philosophy  at 
Gottingen,  studying  the  German  language  and 
civilization,   and,   especially,    German  metaphysics. 


The  Poetry   of   Coleridge  215 

His  well-executed  translation  of  the  dramas  of 
Schiller,  shortly  after  his  return  to  England,  re- 
vealed the  practical  results  he  had  reached  in  the 
mastery  of  German. 

At  Keswick,  1800-04,  we  reach  the  crisis  of  his 
life,  for  it  was  now,  when  his  literary  ambitions 
were  at  the  highest,  that  we  find  him  succumbing 
more  and  more  slavishly  to  that  accursed  opium- 
habit  which  was,  at  length,  to  occasion  the  loss 
of  physical  and  mental  vigor,  the  miscarriage  of 
his  best  schemes,  and  the  consequent  loss  of  all 
heart  and  hope.  There  are  few,  if  any,  examples 
in  our  literary  history  sadder  than  that  of  Cole- 
ridge, in  this  respect,  and  he  thus  belongs  to  that 
list  of  unfortunate  English  authors  that  so  strik- 
ingly represents  the  self-inflicted  loss  of  mental 
and  moral  strength.  It  is  not  strange  that  it  was 
at  this  time  (1802)  that  he  wrote  his  pathetic 
"  Dejection :  An  Ode,"  a  kind  of  elegy  on  his  own 
misfortunes,  due  to  physical  causes. 

"  A  grief  without  a  pang,  void,  dark,  and  drear, 
A  stifled,  drowsy,  unimpassioned  grief, 
Which  finds  no  natural  outlet,  no  relief, 
In  word,  or  sigh,  or  tear. 

My  genial  spirits  fail ; 
And  what  can  these  avail 


216  Special  Discussions 

To  lift  the  smothering  weight  from  off  my  breast? 

"  There  was  a  time  w^hen,  though  my  path  was  rough, 
This  joy  within  me  dallied  with  distress, 
And  all  misfortunes  were  but  as  the  stuff 

Whence  Fancy  made  me  dreams  of  happiness : 
For  hope  grew  round  me,  like  the  twining  vine, 
And  fruits,  and  foliage,  not  my  own,  seemed  mine. 
But  now  afflictions  bow  me  down  to  earth, 
Nor  care  I  that  they  rob  me  of  my  mirth." 

In  England  again  in  1806,  a  physical  and  mental 
wreck,  he  remained  there  till  1816,  when  he  com- 
mitted himself,  in  sheer  desperation,  to  the  guard- 
ian care  of  a  Mr.  Gillman  of  Highgate,  to  whose 
kind  ministries  Coleridge  owed  it  that  he  secured 
any  measure  of  bodily  improvement.  The  letter 
which  he  wrote  to  Gillman  as  he  was  about  placing 
himself  in  his  hands,  and  the  picture  of  this  opium- 
ruined  genius  coming  to  Gillman's  home,  with  the 
proof-sheets  of  his  beautiful  poem  "  Christabel " 
in  his  hands,  form  one  of  the  most  touching 
scenes  in  English  literary  history.  Feeling,  as  he 
did,  that  now,  for  the  first  time,  there  was  some 
hope  of  restoration  to  health  and  congenial  labor, 
he  wrote,  in  his  letter  to  Godwin,  as  follows :  "  If 
I  should  leave  you  restored  to  my  moral  and 
bodily  health,  it  is  not  myself  only  that  will  love 
and  honor  you;  every  friend  I  have  (and,  thank 


The   Poetry   of   Coleridge  217 

God!  in  spite  of  this  wretched  vice,  I  have  many 
and  warm  ones,  who  were  friends  of  my  youth 
and  have  never  deserted  me)  will  thank  you  with 
reverence."  Such  complete  restoration,  however, 
was  not  to  come,  as  for  nearly  a  score  of  years,  in 
this  quiet  home,  under  partial  emancipation  from 
his  opium-habit  and  in  modified  literary  activity, 
he  passed  his  life,  and  finally  closed  it  in  1834.  It 
was  in  1817  that  his  "  Biographia  Literaria  "  ap- 
peared, with  its  invaluable  criticisms  on  poetry. 
In  1818  he  lectured  in  London,  his  discussions 
covering  the  wide  province  of  European  civiliza- 
tion and  literature,  and  English  letters,  and  kin- 
dred topics, —  his  Shakespearean  critiques  forming 
one  of  the  best  contributions  ever  made  to  this 
special  department  of  study.  It  was  natural  that 
in  1825,  far  on  in  his  life  of  study  and  meditation, 
his  "  Aids  to  Reflection "  should  appear,  inter- 
rupted as  the  work  had  been  by  poverty,  disease, 
opium,  and  want  of  method  as  a  man  and  student. 
Of  his  closing  years,  the  details  need  not  be  given. 
It  was  when  he  knew  that  his  end  was  near,  that 
he  characteristically  wrote,  "  Hooker  wished  to 
live  to  finish  his  '  Ecclesiastical  Polity ' ;  so,  I  own, 
I  wish  life  and  strength  had  been  spared  to  me  to 
complete  my  philosophy."     On  July  25,   1834,  he 


218  Special  Discussions 

died,  in  the  midst  of  his  unfinished  plans,  "  more 
of  a  great  man,"  says  Thomas  Arnold,  "  than  any 
one  who  has  lived  within  the  four  seas  in  my  mem- 
ory." This  may  be  extreme  eulogium,  but  serves 
to  show  what  an  impression  Coleridge  made  on 
so  cautious  and  candid  a  critic  as  Arnold  —  praise, 
it  may  be  added,  in  which  Arnold  of  Rugby  is  by 
no  means  alone.  The  summary  of  his  life  and 
character  as  a  man  and  an  author  is  found  in  his 
want  of  will  power,  in  what  has  been  called, 
singularly  enough,  by  De  Quincey,  his  lack  of 
"  fiber."  From  whatever  point  of  view  we  exam- 
ine his  career,  this  defect  comes  into  prominence, 
expressing  itself  in  various  forms,  as  indifference, 
indecision,  caprice,  and  visionary  scheming,  an 
almost  total  absence  of  the  regular  and  resolute. 
It  appears  in  the  wayward  freaks  of  his  boyhood; 
in  his  fitful  life  at  Cambridge;  in  his  entering  the 
English  army;  in  his  slavish  surrender  to  opium; 
in  his  tours  through  Europe ;  in  his  choice  of 
friends  and  pursuits,  and  in  the  general  tenor  of 
his  life. 

It  was  this  that  lay  at  the  basis  of  his  domestic 
unhappiness,  naturally  expected  from  a  marriage 
partly  forced  upon  him,  and  partly  of  his  own 
fanciful  choosing.     Just  as  good  Richard  Hooker 


The  Poetry   of   Coleridge  219 

was  kindly  informed  by  Mrs.  Churchman,  who  was 
nursing  him  in  his  illness,  that  she  had  a  promis- 
ing daughter  who,  if  desired,  could  do  it  just  as 
well,  and  the  affable  English  divine  acquiesced,  to 
his  ultimate  sorrow;  so,  as  two  sisters  had,  re- 
spectively, married  Southey  and  Lovell,  and  there 
was  a  remaining  sister  who  was  seeking  an  evan- 
gelical alliance,  Coleridge  was  courteously  in- 
formed of  the  fact,  took  the  hint,  and  out  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  belated  maiden  closed  the  social 
contract.  So  his  great  pantisocratic  scheme  in  the 
New  World  was  the  offspring  of  this  want  of 
will,  he  not  knowing  from  one  day  to  the  next 
where  he  would  settle  or  what  he  would  do.  So, 
in  authorship,  his  plans  were  equally  vacillating; 
with  theology  and  philosophy  one  day,  and  poetry 
the  next;  with  translations  of  dramas  one  day,  and 
dreaming  the  next.  It  was  thus  impossible  for 
him  to  complete  any  plan,  to  leave  any  such  thing 
as  a  finished  philosophical  system  or  connected 
body  of  literary  work. 

There  are  two  elements  of  special  attractiveness 
in  his  character  that  should  be  noted.  One  was 
his  tenderness  of  spirit,  as  evinced  by  his  interest 
in  children,  expressed  in  his  poem  "  To  the  Chil- 
dren of  Christ's  Hospital " ;  by  his  sympathy  for 


220  Special  Discussions 

the  suffering,  as  expressed  in  his  poem  "  To  an 
Unfortunate  Woman " ;  by  his  anxiety  lest  he 
might  be  a  burden  to  his  friends ;  by  his  deep  in- 
terest in  rising  and  struggHng  authors,  and  by  his 
domestic  hfe,  even  after  discord  entered.  A  fur- 
ther feature  was  his  reverence  of  spirit,  as  he 
wrote  "  An  Evening  Prayer "  for  children ;  a 
series  of  "  Meditative  Poems "  and  "  Religious 
Musings,"  declaring,  as  he  was  dying,  "  As  God 
hears  me,  the  originating  .  .  .  and  sustaining 
wish  ...  in  my  heart  was  to  exalt  the  glory  of 
his  name,"  and,  he  added,  ''  to  promote  the  im- 
provement of  mankind."  Thus  he  lived  and  died, 
his  own  worst  enemy,  a  great  experimenter  in  the 
realm  of  thought;  and  leaving  the  English  world 
yet  in  doubt  as  to  what  he  might  have  done,  had 
his  splendid  faculties  been  fully  under  his  control. 

His    POETRY 

It  is  now  in  place  to  examine  Coleridge's  poetic 
work,  even  though,  by'  the  general  consent  of 
critics,  his  ablest  work  was  in  the  province  of 
prose ;  such  productions  as  his  "  Aids  to  Reflec- 
tion "  and  his  "  Lectures  on  Shakespeare  "  giving 
him  a  high  place  among  English  writers.  Fully 
three-fourths  of  his  authorship  was  of  this  order. 


The   Poetry   of   Coleridge  221 

In  the  threefold  division  of  an  author's  life  and 
work  given  us  by  Mr.  Traill,  his  biographer,  the 
first  period  is  called  The  Poetical,  extending  from 
1772  to  1779,  the  date  of  the  beginning  of  his 
German  life  and  his  more  specifically  critical  and 
philosophic  labors.  Thus  we  find  him,  in  com- 
mon with  Pope  and  others,  "  lisping  in  numbers  " 
in  his  boyhood,  the  results  of  which  are  given  us 
in  what  are  called  his  "  Juvenile  Poems."  Such 
important  selections  as  his  "  Monody  on  the  Death 
of  Chatterton,"  his  twelve  Sonnets,  his  *'  Religious 
Musings,"  and  "  Ode  to  the  Departing  Year  "  be- 
long to  this  earlier  era ;  as,  indeed,  "  The  Ancient 
Mariner,"  the  First  Part  of  ''  Christabel,"  "  Kubla 
Khan,"  and  *'  Hymn  before  Sunrise  in  the  Vale 
of  Chamouni."  In  fact,  this  poetic  period,  though 
so  early,  included  some  of  the  best  years  of  his 
life,  before  he  became  involved  in  the  mazes  of 
German  metaphysics  and  in  the  deeper  mazes  in- 
duced by  opium.  It  is  now  (in  1794)  that  he  was 
working  with  Southey  and  Lovell  in  Bristol,  in  the 
composition  of  "  The  Fall  of  Robespierre,"  an 
experiment  in  dramatic  writing  that  did  no  credit 
to  any  one  of  its  three  composers.  It  was  shortly 
after  (1796-97)  that  his  acquaintance  with 
Wordsworth  assumed  permanent  form,  one  of  its 


222  Special  Discussions 

happiest  results  being  the  joint  preparation  of 
"The  Lyrical  Ballads,"  published  in  1798;  the  far 
larger  part,  however,  being  by  Wordsworth. 
"  The  Ancient  Mariner,"  as  we  are  told,  had  been 
planned  and  partially  composed  as  Coleridge  and 
Wordsworth  roamed  at  will  over  the  Quantock 
Hills.  These  "  Miscellaneous  Poems,"  or  "  Poems 
on  Various  Subjects,"  as  they  were  called  in  the 
first  edition  (1797),  exhibit  most  of  the  marks  of 
immaturity,  with  exceptional  features  of  real  poetic 
fervor.  As  Saintsbury  plainly  expresses  it,  '* '  Re- 
ligious Musings,'  though  it  has  had  its  admirers, 
is  terribly  poor  stuff ;  *  The  Monody  on  the  Death 
of  Chatterton '  might  have  been  written  by  fifty 
people  during  the  century  before  it.  '  The  Des- 
tiny of  Nations  '  is  a  feeble  rant,  but  *  The  Ode 
on  the  Departing  Year '  strikes  a  very  different 
note."  It  was  this  occasional  striking  "  of  a  dif- 
ferent note "  by  Coleridge  that,  despite  all  his 
poetic  defects,  kept  alive  his  fame,  and  led  the 
English  people  to  be  on  the  alert  for  something 
from  his  pen  still  better,  that  "  different  note " 
being  at  length  so  different,  in  "  The  Ancient 
Mariner  "  and  "  Christabel,"  as  to  satisfy,  in  part, 
the  expectations  of  the  public. 

It  is  not  a  little  to  the  praise  of  Coleridge  that 


The   Poetry   of   Coleridge  223 

when  (in  1798)  he  prepared  and  issued  a  second 
edition  of  his  poems,  though  adding  twelve  new 
selections,  he  omitted  nineteen  of  the  first  edition 
of  fifty  pieces,  candidly  stating  in  the  preface  that 
his  former  poems  have  been  "  rightly  charged 
with  a  profusion  of  double  epithets  and  a  general 
turgidness." 

Hence  his  main  poetic  period  was  in  1797-98, 
practically  but  two  years,  the  years  in  which  those 
poems  were  produced  on  which  his  fame  at  present 
rests,  his  translation  of  Schiller's  "  Wallenstein " 
(in  1799)  belonging  essentially  to  the  same  produc- 
tive period.  His  unwonted  poetic  effort  in  these 
few  years  and  the  high  character  of  it  revealed 
his  capability  in  this  direction,  while  also  seeming 
to  anticipate,  in  part,  the  mentally  deadening  effect 
of  opium;  dating,  especially,  from  his  life  at  Kes- 
wick, in  1800.  The  close  of  the  eighteenth  century 
was  practically  the  close  of  his  poetic  career, 
though  it  was  after  this  that  he  completed  his 
"  Christabel."  Apparently  forecasting  his  sad  ex- 
periences yet  to  be  passed,  he  applied  himself  with 
all  the  energy  at  his  command,  it  being  but  occa- 
sionally after  this  that  he  roused  himself  for  a 
season  from  the  influence  of  the  deadly  drug 
whose  slave  he  had  become.     The  only  marvel  is, 


224  Special  Discussions 

and  it  has  not  been  sufficiently  emphasized,  that  it 
was  from  1800  on,  when  he  was  in  the  later  stages 
of  the  opium-habit,  and  consequently  waning 
health,  that  he  wrote  his  notable  Lectures  on 
Shakespeare  and  other  topics  and  his  various 
prose  productions,  the  closing  years  of  his  life  at 
Highgate  being  marked  by  intervals  of  extraordi- 
nary sanity  and  literary  activity.  This  is  true, 
though  he  was  really  a  broken-hearted  mourner 
at  the  funeral  of  his  own  splendid  faculties.  Such 
a  living  death  is  without  parallel  in  the  scope  of 
English  letters. 

CHARACTERISTICS    OF    HIS    POETRY 

In  turning  now  to  a  discussion  of  the  chief 
characteristics  of  his  verse,  it  may  be  noted,  at 
the  outset,  that  most  of  these  features,  constitu- 
tional or  acquired,  are  common  to  his  verse  and 
prose,  thus  affecting,  in  one  way  or  another,  every 
separate  product  of  his  pen,  his  self-induced  phys- 
ical habits  determining  the  action  of  his  mind. 
Glancing  first  at  the  defects,  we  mark: — 
1.  The  political  or  semi-political  type  of  his 
verse,  as  in  "  The  Destruction  of  the  Bastile " ; 
'*  The  French  Revolution " ;  his  Sonnets  to  Ers- 
kine,  Sheridan,  and  Kosciusko ;  "  The  Destiny  of 


The   Poetry   of   Coleridge  225 

Nations  " ;  his  "  Ode  to  France,"  and  most  of  his 
dramatic  verse,  as  "  The  Fall  of  Robespierre." 
This  is  not  to  say  that  acceptable  verse  of  a  high 
order  cannot  be  expressed  on  civic  themes  and  for 
political  ends,  as  in  the  soul-stirring  sonnets  of 
Milton  and  Wordsworth,  but  that  Coleridge  did 
not,  as  a  rule,  so  express  it,  and  was  not  capable 
of  so  doing.  Despite  his  well-meaning  enthusiasm 
on  the  French  Revolution,  as  a  movement  on  be- 
half of  civil  liberty;  and  his  equally  well-meaning 
though  visionary  schemes  as  to  his  Pantisocracy, 
the  ideal  home  of  freedom  of  faith  and  action,  his 
talent  was  wholly  elsewhere;  the  natural  action  of 
his  mind  being  introspective,  and  not  excursive 
and  far-reaching.  Moreover,  his  political  theories 
were  so  changeable,  through  Republicanism  and 
Toryism  and  Socialism  and  other  isms,  that  he  had 
no  well-defined  cause  to  plead  —  no  clear,  ringing 
note  of  appeal,  as  Milton  had  in  the  days  of  Crom- 
well; so  that  where  we  should  find  genuine  pas- 
sion and  sublime  outbursts  of  loyalty  and  civic 
pride,  we  meet  with  the  veriest  platitudes  and 
truisms  on  liberty  and  country.  In  his  twelve  son- 
nets, there  is  not  one  that  rises  to  the  level  of  a 
masterly  poem,  being  devoid  of  strong  thought 
and'   stirring    expression,    while    they    are    often 


^226  Special  Discussions 

marred  by  that  overwrought  diction  to  which  he 
was  too  prone. 

2.  We  note,  further,  a  half-dozen  poems  ex- 
cepted, that  there  is  no  sign  of  a  clear  and  strong 
poetic  instinct;  no  evident  presence  of  "  the  fac- 
ulty divine  "  or  of  the  "  vision  divine  " ;  no  interior 
poetic  perception,  that  sees  at  once  the  hidden 
beauty  of  thoughts  and  things  and  is  able  to  em- 
body it  in  poetic  form ;  little  governing  poetic 
passion,  that  makes  a  poem  an  impersonation,  and 
sways  the  soul  of  the  reader  who  yields  himself 
to  it  without  reserve.  Here  and  there,  as  in 
"Christabel"  and  "The  Ancient  Mariner,"  there 
is  a  temporary  and  partial  manifestation  of  it;  but 
it  is  no  sooner  evident  than  it  is  gone,  and  the 
heaven-soaring  poet  descends  at  once  to  the  earth, 
and  abides  there.  If  he  failed  to  accept  what  he 
regarded  as  Wordsworth's  too  practical,  every-day 
theory  of  verse,  he  failed  to  exhibit  any  higher 
theory  of  his  own,  so  as  to  show  the  English  world 
what  poetry  should  be.  It  is  clear  that  nothing  can 
atone  for  the  absence  of  this  poetic  gift  and  func- 
tion. The  fact  that  Coleridge's  "  Lectures  on 
Poetry :  its  Genius  and  Expression  "  are  far  above 
the  average  order,  and  still  well  worth  the  read- 
ing, is  proof  in  point  that  he  had  but  little  of  the 


The  Poetry  of  Coleridge  221i 

genius  which  he  extols,  and  whose  presence  he 
himself  regarded  as  an  element  of  poetic  power 
and  success. 

3.  An  additional  defect  is  the  fragmentary  na- 
ture of  his  poetry,  as  indeed,  of  his  prose.  It  is 
fitful  and  capricious,  marked  by  that  "  dispersive- 
ness  "  of  which  critics  have  spoken ;  so  that  when 
he  wrote  a  representative  poem,  it  was  almost  as 
much  of  a  surprise  to  himself  as  to  his  friends. 
"  Christabel "  is  an  unfinished  poem ;  so  favor- 
able a  judge  as  his  own  son  Hartley  insisting  that 
he  could  not  have  finished  it,  if  he  would.  So,  with 
"  Kubla  Khan "  and  other  poems,  his  poetry 
throughout  having  this  unfinished  character.  Such 
fragments  came,  undoubtedly,  from  his  divided 
interests  as  a  prose  writer  and  poet;  as  a  day- 
dreamer  and  social  reformer;  as  an  author  and  a 
critic;  as  a  metaphysician,  theologian,  and  versi- 
fier; as  a  romancer  and  realist.  His  favorite  ideal 
of  the  possible  combination  of  the  natural  and 
supernatural  was  of  this  order.  From  financial 
straits  and  other  causes  he  even  essayed  the  role 
of  a  Unitarian  preacher  at  Shrewsbury,  for  which 
office,  indeed,  he  showed  some  talent,  and  which 
he  was  induced  to  remit  by  the  offer  of  financial 
aid.     A  glance  at  the  later  portraits  of  the  poet 


228  Special  Discussions 

will  reveal  that  he  had  the  clerical  face  and  dress, 
and  was^  to  this  extent,  ''  approbated,"  as  Emerson 
would  say,  to  the  ministry.  Shortly  after  this,  he 
was  at  Keswick,  gradually  surrendering  body  and 
soul  to  the  ravages  of  opium,  and  thus  unfitting 
himself  for  any  high  and  acceptable  service  in  the 
cause  of  truth  or  humane  letters. 

There  is,  however,  a  more  favorable  view  of  the 
poetry  of  Coleridge,  and  we  note: — 

1.  That  his  poetic  diction  is  often  chaste  and 
expressive  enough  to  call  for  special  emphasis. 
Critics  have  freely  spoken  of  the  melody  and  music 
of  his  lines,  of  his  metrical  skill  displayed  in  con- 
veying thought  which. in  itself  is  but  little  above 
the  ordinary.  We  hear  of  his  "  cadence-changes," 
of  his  "  gorgeous  meter,"  while  so  good  a  judge 
as  Swinburne,  himself  a  notable  example  of  an 
English  metrist,  speaks  in  high  praise  of  the  lyric 
aptness  of  Coleridge  as  a  versifier. 

One  of  the  evidences  of  this  rhythmic  diction  and 
sense  of  the  harmony  of  verse  is  seen  in  the  large 
variety  of  his  meters.  In  this  respect  he  is  superi- 
or to  Pope,  who  carried  the  English  couplet  to 
such  an  extreme.  Hence,  if  we  turn  to  the  poems 
of  Coleridge,  we  are  at  once  impressed  with  this 
variety,   as   seen   in   couplet   and   quatrain;  rhyme 


The  Poetry  of  Coleridge  229 

and  blank  verse;  the  six-line,  eight-line,  and  the 
nine-line  stanza,  after  the  manner  of  Spenser;  and 
sonnets,  with  their  requisite  fourteen  lines.  In 
"  The  Ancient  Mariner,"  while  the  prevailing  form 
of  stanza  is  the  quatrain,  other  varieties  are  found ; 
as,  also,  in  "  Christabel,"  are  found  couplets  and 
quatrains  freely  interchanged.  In  fact,  all  the  ac- 
cepted kinds  of  foot  and  line  are  present,  and 
adapted,  in  the  main,  to  the  changing  character  of 
the  thought  involved.  Coleridge,  in  his  justly  cel- 
ebrated "  Lectures  on  Poetry,"  discusses  the  sub- 
ject on  the  side  of  Poetic  Genius  and  Poetic  Ex- 
pression. •  Whatever  may  be  said  as  to  his  lack 
of  the  former  in  any  marked  degree,  no  one  can 
justly  deny  him  a  good  degree  of  excellence  in 
the  latter.  He  had  the  language-sense,  a  poetic 
taste  to  choose  the  right  and  give  it  its  right  place 
in  the  line,  and  thus  fulfill  one  of  the  prime  condi- 
tions of  poetry. 

2.  A  further  mark  of  excellence  is  the  Mystical 
and  Romantic  Element  apparent  in  his  verse,  so 
that  the  expression  applied  to  "  Kubla  Khan,"  a 
"  dream-poem,"  might  aptly  be  applied  to  scores 
of  others ;  notably,  to  "  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient 
Mariner,"  "  Christabel,"  "  The  Ballad  of  the  Dark 
Ladie,"   "The  Three   Graves,"  "Alice  Du   Clos," 


230  Special  Discussions 

and  "  Phantom  or  Fact."  These  titles  are  sug- 
gestive of  the  fanciful  and  mythical,  of  the  office 
of  the  poetic  imagination  in  the  line  of  romance, 
of  what  has  been  called  "psychological  curiosity." 
Such  a  title  as  "  The  Sibylline  Leaves "  is  of  a 
similar  type.  One  of  his  earliest  poems,  "  The 
Songs  of  the  Pixies,"  a  race  of  beings  invisibly 
small  and  hurtful  or  helpful  to  man,  is  a  poem 
of  this  kind.  He  speaks  of  himself  as  a  boy 
'*  reading  or  fancying;  half,  one;  half,  the  other." 
It  is  this  half  real  and  half  unreal  feature  that 
gives  to  our  author's  verse  a  kind  of  ethereal  or 
semi-spiritual  type,  reminding  us,  at  times,  of  some 
of  the  Prose  Tales  of  Hawthorne  or  Poe,  often 
embodied  in  what  Whipple  has  called  "  his  exqui- 
site •  delineations  of  the  heart."  "  If  I  were 
asked,"  says  Devey,  "  to  individualize  the  charac- 
ter of  Coleridge's  poetry,  I  should  place  its  dis- 
tinctive feature  in  bringing  into  prominence  the 
relation  of  man  with  the  spiritual  universe."  It 
is  this  unearthly  eletnent  that  is  so  often  seen, 
and  which  so  often  holds  the  reader  to  the  page 
when  more  regular  and  historical  methods  would 
fail  to  do  so.  That  such  a  feature  should  be  found 
in  a  poet  whose  special  lore  lay  in  the  sphere  of 
metaphysical  studies  is,  at  first,  somewhat  surpris- 


The  Poetry  of  Coleridge  231 

ing,  until  we  recall  the  fact  that  much  of  the  phi- 
losophizing of  that  day  was  vague  and  purely 
speculative,  leading  to  no  definite  result  in  the 
establishment  of  truth.  If  to  this  we  add  the 
poet's  constitutional  tendencies  and  the  peculiarity 
of  his  personal  habits,  we  can  readily  see  that 
there  was  full  scope  for  the  fantastic.  Even  as 
a  prose  writer,  he  was  unrealistic,  and  thereby 
vitiated  much  of  his  influence. 

3.  Emphasis  may  also  be  laid  on  the  promi- 
nence given  in  his  verse  to  natural  life  and  scen- 
ery—  to  sketches  of  the  outer  world  of  sea  and 
earth  and  sky.  There  is  no  more  pleasing  and 
effective  element  in  Coleridge's  poetry  than  this, 
and  it  saves  from  oblivion  much  of  his  verse  that 
would  otherwise  be  forgotten.  Some  of  his  poems 
evince  this  throughout,  while  others  possess  it  in 
occasional  lines.  It  is  here  that  he  betrays  his  re- 
lation to  the  Lake  School  of  Poets,  and  is  proud 
to  do  so.  It  is  here  that  he  comes  into  closest 
sympathy  with  Wordsworth  and  others  who  have 
extolled  the  charms  and  glories  of  physical  phe- 
nomena. It  was  when  wandering  over  the  Quan- 
tock  Hills  that  "  The  Lyrical  Ballads  "  and  "  The 
Ancient  Mariner  "  were  practically  composed.    In- 


232  Special  Discussions 

quiring  where  "  Domestic  Peace  "  may  be  found, 

he  writes: — 

"  In  a  cottaged  vale  she  dwells, 
Listening  to  the  Sabbath  bells." 

In  his  lines  on  "  Fears  in  Solitude/'  he  describes 
the  far  retreat  from  war  and  tumult,  as 

"  A  green  and  silent  spot,  amid  the  hills, 
A  small  and  silent  dell!    O'er  stiller  place 
No  singing  skylark  ever  poised  himself.  .  .  . 
Oh!   'tis  a  quiet,  spirit-healing  nook! 
Whi(?h  all,  methinks,  would  love;  but  chiefly  he, 
The  humble  man,  who,  in  his  youthful  years, 
Knew  just  ^o  much  of  folly,  as  had  made 
His  early  manhood  more  securely  wise." 

~His  "  Hymn  before  Sunrise  in  the  Vale  of 
Chamouni  "  has  justly  become  an  English  classic. 
His  "  Reflections  on  having  left  a  Place  of  Re- 
tirement "  are  lines  in  which  he  pours  forth  in 
tenderest  strain  his  reluctant  withdrawal  from  the 
scenes  he  loved,  and  in  the  center  of  which  he 
would  fain  spend  his  days  —  a  place  where,  as 
he  writes, — 

"  We  could  hear 
At  silent  noon,  at  eve,  and  early  morn, 
The  sea's  faint  murmur.  .  .  . 
A  spot  which  you  might  aptly  call 
The  Valley  of  Seclusion." 

So,  in  writing  to  his  brother  of  the  old  home  at 
Ottery  St.  Mary,  he  says: — 


The  Poetry  of  Coleridge  233 

"A  blessed  lot  hath  he,  who  having  passed 
His  youth  land  early  manhood  in  the  stir 
And  turmoil  of  the  world,  retreats,  at  length, 
To  the  same  dwelling  where  his  father  dwelt." 

So,  on  through  his  verse,  ever  and  anon  he  breaks 
forth  in  praise  in  that  his  lot  was  cast  among  the 
hills  and  lakes  of  England.  It  is  this  fact  as  much 
as  any  other  that  intensifies  the  sadness  of  the 
sight  of  this  child  lover  of  nature,  when  in  his 
closing  life  at  Highgate  he  was  bereft  of  heart 
and  hope  by  the  fatal  curse  of  opium. 

4.  A  final  feature  deserving  mention  is  the 
poet's  vigorous  invectives  against  national  sin  and 
wrong  —  his  impassioned  pleading  for  the  Rights 
of  Man.  It  was  this  element  in  his  nature  that 
explains  his  attitude  toward  the  French  Revolu- 
tion and  socialistic  projects,  though  at  times  he 
was  led  thereby  to  gross  extremes.  Thus  in  his 
"  Ode  to  the  Departing  Year,"  he  scored  the  un- 
holy ambition  of  nations,  and  hesitated  not  to 
warn  England.  In  his  "  Fears  in  Solitude,"  he 
wrote : — 

"  We  have  offended,  oh,  my  countrymen !  .  .  . 
From  east  to  west 
A  groan  of  accusation  pierces  Heaven.  .  .  . 
We  have  drunk  up,  demure  as  at  a  grace. 
Pollutions  from  the  brimming  cup  of  wealth.  .  .  . 
Yet  bartering  freedom  and  the  poor  man's  life 


234  Special  Discussions 

For  gold,  as  at  a  market!  .  .  . 

We  gabble  o'er  the  oaths  we  mean  to  break; 

For  all  must  swear  —  all  and  in  every  place, 

College  and  wharf,   council  and  justice  —  court ; 

All,  all  must  swear,  the  briber  and  the  bribed, 

Merchant  and  lawyer,  senator  and  priest. 

The  rich,  the  poor,  the  old  man  and  the  young; 

All,  all  make  up  one  scheme  of  perjury 

That  faith  doth  reel." 

Thus  the  terrible  arraignment  continues,  and  lest 
he  be  accused  of  malice,  he  adds: — 

"  I  have  told 
O  Britons!  O  my  brethren!  I  have  told 
Most  bitter  truth,  but  without  bitterness.  .  .  . 
O  native  Britain!  O  my  Mother  Isle! 
How  shouldst  thou  prove  aught  else  but  dear  and  holy 
To  me,  who  from  thy  lakes  and  mountain  hills, 
Thy  clouds,  thy  quiet  dales,  thy  rocks  and  seas, 
Have  drunk  in  all  my  intellectual  life." 

The  poem  is  worthy  of  Milton,  nor  do  we  know 
in  English  verse  of  a  stronger  protest  against  a 
nation's  weaknesses  and  crimes.  So  in  other 
poems,  as  in  his  dramas  and  translations,  we  hear 
an  earnest  voice  in  behalf  of  right. 

Such  are  the  main  features  of  merit  in  the  po- 
etry of  Coleridge  by  which  he  has  taken  and  held 
his  place  in  the  second  group  of  English  bards  — 
with  Moore,  Southey,  Landor,  Scott,  and  Shelley. 


The  Poetry  of  Coleridge  235 

The  language  of  Saintsbury  "  that  in  verse,  at 
least,  if  not  in  prose,  there  is  no  greater  master 
than  Coleridge,"  cannot  be  indorsed.  The  author 
of  a  few  poems  of  rare  merit,  his  special  worth 
lies  in  the  fact  that,  in  common  with  the  best 
minds  of  his  time,  he  struck  "  a  new  note,"  the 
sure  promise  of  the  "  new  poetry  "  just  at  hand. 
It  is  this  which  atones  in  Coleridge  for  many 
minor  blemishes,  and  forces  the  critic  to  rank  him 
higher  than  his  work  actually  justifies.  In  this 
sense,  at  least,  he  had  "  the  vision  divine,"  the 
vision  that  saw  in  advance  the  imperative  need  of 
the  time ;  and  enough  of  the  "  faculty  divine  "  to 
enable  him  in  part,  at  least,  to  satisfy  that  need. 


V 

THE  POETRY  OF  WORDSWORTH 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  present,  in  this  discus- 
sion, the  biographical  details  of  the  life  of  Words- 
worth, save  in  so  far  as  they  are  inseparably  con- 
nected with  his  literary  work.  In  a  true  sense, 
his  poetry  is  his  best  biography.  Not  only  is 
"  The  Prelude "  autobiographical,  but  "  The  Ex- 
cursion "  and  many  of  the  shorter  poems  are  sub- 
stantially so. 

We  may  thus  proceed  at  once  to  the  subject  in 
hand,  as  embraced  in  three  distinct  topics  of  in- 
terest. 

HIS    THEORY    OF    POETRY 

This  was  peculiarly  his  own,  called  for,  in  part, 
by  the  special  character  of  the  time  and,  mainly, 
by  the  instincts  and  demands  of  his  own  nature. 
He  alludes,  once  and  again,  to  the  urgent  neces- 
sity that  existed  in  English  poetry  for  new 
canons  of  criticism  and  new  methods  of  expres- 
sion. He  thus  takes  special  pains  to  review  the 
history  of  English  verse,  and  calls  attention  to 
236 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsivorth  237 

the    false   taste    which    had    prevailed    among    the 
ablest  writers  of  the  day. 

He  dwells  upon  the  fact  that  by  such  erroneous 
standards  Spenser  and  Shakespeare  and  Milton 
had  largely  lost  their  hold  upon  the  public  mind, 
while  such  inferior  names  as  those  of  Halifax, 
Browne,  Sheffield,  and  Phillips  had  found  a  place 
of  honor  in  Johnson's  "  Lives  of  the  English 
Poets."  Not  even  in  the  opening  of  the  Romantic 
Era,  in  the  days  of  Cowper,  did  he  succeed  in  dis- 
covering what  he  regarded  as  the  essentials  of 
poetry.  It  was  in  place,  therefore,  for  him  to 
develop  a  theory  of  his  own,  and  in  the  second 
edition  of  his  poems  he  gives  us  by  way  of  preface 
its  clear  exposition.  "  Poetry,"  he  says,  "  is  the 
image  of  man  and  nature,  its  object  being  to  dis- 
close their  unity,  and  poems  to  which  any  value 
can  be  attached  were  never  produced  on  any 
variety  of  subjects  but  by  a  man  who  being  pos- 
sessed of  more  than  usual  sensibility  had,  also, 
thought  long  and  deeply."  We  discover  here  the 
important  truth  which  lies  at  the  basis  of  the 
author's  theory,  that  all  true  poetic  emotion  is 
under  the  guidance  and  government  of  thought. 
It  is  a  contemplative  emotion.  Proceeding,  then, 
from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete,  he  defines  the 


238  Special  Discussions 

poet  to  be  "  a  man  speaking  to  men,  a  man  who 
has  a  greater  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  a 
more  comprehensive  soul  than  most  men,  and  who 
rejoices  more  than  other  men  in  the  spirit  of  life 
that  is  in  him."  He  enumerates  six  distinct  quali- 
fications of  the  poet  —  Observation  or  Description, 
Sensibility,  Reflection,  Imagination,  Invention,  and 
Judgment;  in  fine,  all  the  elements  that  enter  into 
the  best  English  verse.  From  these  and  kindred 
statements  his  theory  may  be  reached.  We  may 
speak  of  it,  as  the  interpretation  of  God  and  man 
through  nature,  as  the  real  language  of  man  re- 
duced to  metrical  form.  Negatively  viewed,  it 
Vi^as  a  protest  against  the  false  sentiments  of  pre- 
ceding eras.  The  main  object  of  his  poems,  as  he 
indicates,  was  to  present  the  incidents  of  every-day 
life  in  a  language  understood  by  all  and,  at  the 
same  time,  to  preserve  the  dignity  of  verse  by 
investing  it  with  imaginative  beauty.  He  cannot 
speak  too  strongly  against  the  attempts  hitherto 
made  to  establish  a  separate  poetic  diction, 
applicable  to  poetry  only.  Hence  it  is  that  Pope 
and  Dryden  and  the  later  formalists  are  denounced 
as  the  originators  of  a  false  standard  in  poetry, 
and  as  using  a  kind  of  phraseology  nowhere  to 
be   found   among  the  masses  of  the  people.     "  I 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  239 

have  wished,"  says  Wordsworth,"  "  to  keep  the 
reader  in  the  company  of  flesh  and  blood,"  It  was 
this  particular  theory  that  drew  down  upon  the 
head  of  the  author  of  it  the  most  stinging  invec- 
tives of  the  critics  and  occasioned  the  almost  per- 
sonal controversy  that  he  had  with  Jeffrey  and 
the  Edinburgh  Reviewers.  It  was  intolerable  to 
these  supporters  of  the  old  regime  to  note  the  ap- 
plication of  such  lowly  language  to  the  depart- 
ment of  English  verse.  They  ridiculed  it  as  the 
worst  of  commonplace,  and  could  see  nothing  in 
the  future  of  the  nation's  poetic  art,  if  developed 
on  this  basis,  but  a  slavish  adherence  to  the  most 
threadbare  sentiments.  ''  What  do  we  meet  here?  " 
asks  one  of  the  critics  —  "  Idiot  boys,  mad  moth- 
ers, wandering  Jews,  and  phrensied  mariners " ! 
In  fact,  the  conventional  censors  of  the  time  could 
not  from  their  point  of  view  comprehend  the  mo- 
tive of  the  poet  in  this  new  departure.  It  was  so 
entirely  foreign  to  their  conceptions,  that  they 
branded  it  at  once  as  a  flagrant  literary  heresy, 
and  were  rather  inclined  to  commiserate  a  poet 
who,  right  in  the  face  of  literary  history  and  lit- 
erary ideal,  could  thus  debase  himself  to  the 
language  of  the  many.  Wordsworth,  however, 
understood  fully  the  need  and  the  purport  of  his 


240  Special  Discussions 

new  method,  and  addressed  himself  with  untiring 
devotion  to  its  practical  application.  He  could 
thus  write  of  himself  as,  in  "The  Excursion,"  he 
writes  of  the  Wanderer: — 

"From  his  native  hills 
He  wandered  far ;  much  did  he  see  of  men, 
Their  manners,  their  enjoyments,  and  pursuits, 
Their  passions,  and  their  feelings;  chiefly  those 
Essential  and  eternal  in  the  heart. 
That,  'mid  the  simpler  forms  of  rural  life, 
Exist  more  simple  in  their  elements, 
And  speak  a  plainer  language." 

In  fine,  Wordsworth's  theory  was  unique  in  its 
origin,  content,  function  and  result.  It  traced  all 
genuine  poetic  utterance  back  to  the  understanding 
and  the  heart,  and  was  content  to  make  the  daily 
diction  of  popular  life  the  medium  of  its  expres- 
sion. It  is  true  that  our  author  himself  departs, 
at  times,  from  the  requirements  of  his  own  theory. 
It  is  true,  moreover,  that  the  theory  is  often 
pressed  to  undue  limits  as  to  choice  of  theme  and 
character  of  language.  Still,  the  theory  itself  was 
the  offspring  of  an  ingenuous  nature,  its  govern- 
ing aim  was  the  education  of  the  people,  and  it 
marked  a  step  of  decided  advance  in  the  national 
literature  of  England.  It  is  not,  therefore,  the 
teachings  of  the   school   of  Jeffrey,  but  those  of 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  241 

the  more  liberal  section  of  British  critics,  that  we 
are  to  follow  in  the  study  of  the  poetry  of  Words- 
worth. 

HIS   VIEW    OF    NATURE 

Here,  as  in  the  realm  of  verse,  he  had  his  own 
peculiar  way  of  observation  and  suggestion.  We 
find  him,  when  a  mere  boy,  thoroughly  in  love 
with  those  natural  surroundings  in  the  center  of 
which  his  early  life  was  happily  cast.  At  Cocker- 
mouth,  at  Alfoxden,  at  Hawkshead,  at  Grasmere, 
and  at  Rydal  Mount,  he  was  the  lover  and  the 
child  of  nature.  These  different  English  homes 
were  just  such  as  to  confirm  his  deepest  constitu- 
tional instincts.  He  looked  upon  the  physical 
world,  not  as  a  mere  collection  of  forms  and  ob- 
jects, but  as  a  grand,  sentient  organism,  informed 
and  transfigured  by  the  spirit  that  was  in  it.  This 
presence  he  calls  the  Spirit  of  Nature;  but  one  of 
the  varied  forms  of  the  manifestation  of  the  Di- 
vine Spirit.  He  sees  God  in  nature  rather  than 
over  it, —  an  immanent  and  ever-active  agency  be- 
getting life  and  love  and  joy  and  beauty  and  cos- 
mic order,  under  whose  benignant  influence  the 
soul  of  man  was  chastened  and  enlarged.  This 
is  his  meaning  in  the  suggestive  couplet. 


^42  .  Special  Discussions 

"A  gracious  Spirit  o'er  the  world  presides, 
And  o'er  the  heart  of  man." 

It  is  thus  he  writes,  in  "  The  Prelude  "— 

"Thou,  O  Nature,  hast  fed 
My  lofty  speculations,  and  in  thee 
For  this  uneasy  heart  of  ours  I  find 
A  never-failing  principle  of  joy 
And  purest  passion." 

To   his   discerning  eye,   everything  in   nature  had 

a  Hfe  of  its  own  and  its  separate  ministry  to  man. 

He  goes   so  far  at  times   as  to   intimate  that  all 

scenes  in  nature  have  their  respective  counterparts 

in   the   soul.     We   can   best   express   his   intensive 

love  of  nature  by   saying  that  he  was   enchanted 

by  her.     Before  his   constructive  imagination   she 

took  a  kind  of  bodily  presence.    He  saw  her  forms, 

heard   her   voice,   and    felt   profoundly   the   varied 

movements  of  her  inner  life.    Her  melodies  thrilled 

him,  and  her  revelations  subdued  and  pacified  him. 

There  was  a  kind  of  understanding  between  them, 

giving   rise  to  the  very   closest  intimacies.     How 

rapturous  his   descriptions   of  his  youthful   sports 

in  wood  and  field !     In  his  "  Tintern  Abbey  "  and 

"  Descriptive  Sketches  "  he  thus  writes : — 

"  For  Nature  then  .... 
To  me  was  all  in  all.  .  .  .  The  sounding  cataract 
Haunted  me  like  a  passion ;  the  tall  rock, 
The  mountain,  and  the  deep  and  gloomy  wood, 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  243 

Their  colors  and  their  forms,  were  then  to  me 
An  appetite;  a  feeling  and  a  love." 

"Moves  there  a  cloud  o'er  midday's  flaming  eye 
Upward  he  looks  and  calls  it  luxury." 

He  had  come  to  think. of  nature  as  invested  with 
something  of  the  supernatural,  and,  reversing  Pro- 
fessor Drummond's  phraseology,  would  see  spirit- 
ual law  in  the  natural  world.  It  was  his  favorite 
teaching,  that  ''  heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  in- 
fancy "  and  thus  gives  shape  and  bias  to  our  form- 
ing character.  This  is  the  very  meaning  of  his 
touching  poem  on  the  "  Intimations  of  Immortality 
from  Recollections  of  Early  Childhood."  Earth 
is  viewed  as  but  the  vestibule  of  heaven,  and  the 
world  about  us  is  alive  with  divinest  impulses. 
There  was  in  all  this,  it  must  be  conceded,  much 
of  the  mystical  and  visionary,  and  very  much  of 
the  essentially  poetic.  There  was  nothing  in  earth 
or  sea  or  sky  in  which  he  did  not  detect  poetry, 
and  it  was  his  one  ambition  to  embody  these  con- 
ceptions and  impressions  in  appropriate  verse.  Ar- 
rogant and  independent  as  he  often  was  in  the 
presence  of  men,  he  was  ever  docile  and  devout 
in  the  presence  of  nature.  He  acknowledged  her 
primary  right  to  instruct  him.  He  believed  that 
between  the  human  soul  and  the  outer  world  there 


244  Special  Discussions 

was  a  mutual  interchange  of  life,  a  system  of 
preestablished  harmonies,  and  that  life  was  blessed 
just  to  the  degree  in  which  man  was  enabled  to 
discover  and  apply  them.  So  strong  was  his  love 
for  nature  as  beneficent,  that  he  seemed  either  to 
forget  the  existence  of  evil  in  her  or  to  invest  the 
evil  with  the  attractiveness  of  the  good.  Though 
he  alludes  to  storm  and  fire,  the  reference  is  always 
to  their  sublimity,  rather  than  to  their  agency 
as  destructive  and  avenging.  We  never  read  of 
the  forces  of  nature  as  vindictive,  of  the  noxious 
vapors  that  poison  the  air,  or  of  the  barren  wastes 
over  the  face  of  the  earth.  Nothing  is  said  of 
the  scriptural  relations  of  nature  to  the  fall  of  man. 
Seeing  her  beneficence  only,  he  counsels  all  who 
are  in  trouble  to  betake  themselves  to  her  for 
tuition  and  blessing.  He  believes  that  the  mental 
peace  which  is  so  desirable  is  to  be  secured  by 
"  communion  with  her  visible  forms."  There  is 
something  touching  in  his  representation  of  the 
attitude  in  which  nature  stands  to  little  children. 
She  is  their  affectionate  guardian,  watching  over 
their  interests  with  motherly  care.  It  is  chiefly  for 
them  that  she  displays  her  wonders  and  her 
beauties.  It  is  her  innocent  purpose  to  woo  and 
win  them  by  her  constant  ministries  to  their  earli- 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  245 

est  joys  and  needs.  Before  they  become  chafed 
and  hardened  by  the  stern  experiences  of  life,  it 
is  for  her  to  shape  their  pliant  minds  into  har- 
mony with  her  own  teachings. 

Such  was  Wordsworth's  theory  of  nature  as  re- 
lated to  God  and  men,  to  poetry  and  life.  The 
question  naturally  arises  as  to  its  soundness.  It 
is  easy  to  see  that  it  was  a  theory  capable  of  gross 
perversion.  There  seems  to  have  been,  at  times, 
a  vagueness  in  the  poet's  mind  as  to  the  true  re- 
lation of  God  to  his  works.  In  the  earlier  history, 
the  clear  conception  of  a  personal  Deity  separate 
from  his  creation  is  not  as  sharply  defined  as  we 
might  wish.  There  are  times  in  his  life  and  poet- 
ry when  he  seems  to  love  the  idea  of  the  universe 
as  objective  and  to  resolve  it  into  the  being  of 
God.  This  tendency  was  pronounced  even  in  his 
boyhood.  In  his  philosophic  monologues  among 
the  mountains,  this  transcendental  tendency  is 
ever  manifest.  Where  others  beheld  and  enjoyed, 
Wordsworth  almost  worshiped,  and  at  this  point 
was  the  peril.  Hence,  we  are  not  surprised  to 
hear  the  charge  of  Pantheism,  as  Devey  thus 
writes :  "  This  deification  of  the  powers  of  nature ; 
this   effort  to  break  down  the  antithesis  between 


246  Special  Discussions 

mind  and  matter  —  this  is  all  at  war  with  the  doc- 
trine of  the  fall  and  the  essential  constituents  of 
the  Christian  faith."  This  is  all  true  in  so  far  as 
tendency  is  concerned.  We  must  believe,  however, 
that  the  poet  escaped  the  legitimate  results  of  his 
own  theory.  At  first,  it  is  true  that  his  views  of 
good  and  evil,  of  the  soul's  origin,  and  of  natural 
phenomena,  were  more  Platonic  than  biblical.  He 
never  came  to  the  statement,  however,  that  the 
world  is  but  a  mode  of  the  divine  existence.  Ma- 
turer  opinions  and  beliefs  are  seen  to  modify  the 
earlier  for  the  better,  and  not,  as  in  the  case  of 
Milton,  for  the  worse.  No  sympathetic  reader  of 
his  life  can  forget  the  serious  mental  struggle 
through  which  he  was  called  to  pass  at  this  junc- 
ture, taking  its  intensest  form  after  he  had  left 
England  and  lived  at  the  center  of  European 
commotions.  Doubts  of  all  kinds  harassed  him. 
He  was,  as  so  many  others  have  been,  the  victim 
of  what  Hood  calls  "  the  Everlasting  No  " —  the 
blank  denial  of  all  personal  existence  and  ac- 
countability. The  struggle,  however,  was  not  a 
hopeless  one.  The  light  gradually  broke  in  upon 
him,  and  he  saw  the  truth  in  its  reality  and  right 
relations.       In    noting    the    religious    beliefs    of 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  247 

Wordsworth,  it  must  be  confessed  that  we  fail  to 
discover  those  references  to  the  redemptive  sys- 
tem that  belong  to  the  writings  of  a  Christian 
poet.  In  this,  however,  he  is  not  alone,  while  we 
are  bound,  moreover,  to  make  due  allowance  for 
the  different  ways  in  which  men  manifest  their 
piety.  So  true  is  this,  that  Mr.  Brooke  in  his 
"  Theology  of  the  English  Poets,"  devotes  more 
than  one-half  of  the  treatise  to  Wordsworth's  re- 
ligious life.  With  the  Bible  before  him,  and  na- 
ture about  him,  he  used,  each  in  his  own  way,  to 
interpret  the  other. 

"  Early  had  he  learned  to  reverence  the  volume 
That  displays  the  mystery,  the  life  which  cannot  die, 
But  in  the  mountains  did  he  feel  his  faith." 

It  was  precisely  to  this  combination,  in  his  charac- 
ter, of  the  earthly  and  the  unearthly  that  he  strik- 
ingly refers  in  the  poetic  desire, 

"  And  I  could  wish  my  days  to  be 
Bound  each  to  each  by  natural  piety." 

This  was  his  own  interpretation  of  his  own  re- 
ligious life.  His  piety,  as  his  poetry,  was,  in  a 
true  sense,  natural,  on  the  basis  of  which  it  re- 
quired but  little  faith  to  rise  to  the  supernatural 
and  rest  therein. 


248  Special  Discussions 

THE     CHARACTERISTICS     OF     HIS     POETRY 

1.  Its  Ethical  Character.  Wordsworth  was  a 
Literary  Moralist.  His  mind  was  eminently  eth- 
ical. As  Taine  would  express  it,  he  was  constitu- 
tionally devout,  "  pre-inclined  "  to  piety.  We  look 
in  vain  in  his  character  to  find  any  trace  of  that 
groveling  temper  so  often  found  in  authors  and 
authorship.  He  recognized,  from  his  earliest  boy- 
hood onward,  his  relations  to  God  and  duty.  Very 
much  of  his  earlier  and  later  devotion  to  natural 
scenery  was  but  the  expression  of  this  reverential 
spirit.  Taine  pronounces,  unwittingly,  a  most  de- 
cided eulogium  upon  Wordsworth's  poetry  as  he 
ironically  writes,  "  When  I  shall  have  emptied  my 
head  of  all  worldly  thoughts,  and  looked  up  to 
the  clouds  for  ten  years,  to  refine  my  soul,  I  shall 
love  this  poetry."  It  was  this  very  unworldliness 
which  the  worldly  French  critic  could  not  appre- 
ciate had  he  looked  up  to  the  clouds  for  twenty 
years,  and  which  only  serves  to  cast  about  the 
genius  of  the  poet  a  purer  luster  than  it  would 
otherwise  have  possessed.  We  are  not  surprised 
to  learn  from  the  poet's  biography  that  his  friends 
had  designed  him  for  the  holy  ministry.  He  un- 
derstood, however,  still  better  than  they,  the  apti- 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  249 

tudes  of  his  nature,  and  preached  through  his 
literary  work  to  a  far  larger  audience  than  he 
could  have  reached  from  an  English  pulpit.  All 
spheres  and  activities  of  human  life  were  to  him 
serious.  Hence,  we  mark  in  his  verse  the  ab- 
sence of  mere  sentiment  or  of  words  uttered  for 
their  own  sake.  How  striking  the  absence  of  that 
species  of  poetry  so  common  to  all  the  poets  from 
Spenser  to  Moore  —  amorous  lyrics  in  honor  of 
some  personal  or  imaginary  favorite!  By  no 
means  devoid  of  deep  and  generous  feeling,  he 
always  gave  expression  to  it  in  the  forms  of 
simple  truth.  So  decided  was  this  ethical  bias, 
that  we  fail  to  discover  that  ingenuous  humor  and 
pleasantry  of  temper  which  naturally  belongs  to 
the  poet's  nature.  The  critics  are  correct  when 
they  affirm  that  this  defect  serves  to  detract  from 
the  merits,  as  indeed  from  the  readableness  of  his 
style.  Still,  the  defect  is  so  thoroughly  consistent 
with  his  character,  that  what  is  lost  on  the  side  of 
pleasantry  is  more  than  gained  on  that  of  an  hon- 
est adherence  to  the  reality  of  things.  From  first 
to  last,  there  is  not  a  whit  of  the  affected  and  con- 
ventional; no  studied  artifice  by  which  to  attract 
attention,  but  the  ever-present  influence  of  a  lofty 
moral    aim.      There    is    here,    what    Christopher 


250  Special  Discussions 

North  has  purposely  called,  "  an  out-of-the-world- 

ish  look."     It  was  always  an  occasion  of  regret 

to   Wordsworth   that   the   great  majority  of  men 

were  so  thoroughly   engrossed   in  the   pursuit  of 

merely  temporal  good. 

"The  world  is  too  mudi  with  us;  late  and  soon, 
Getting  and  spending,  we  lay  waste  our  powers." 

He  thus  aimed  to  exalt  virtue  among  all  classes. 
A^  a  citizen,  he  was  cautious  and  conservative. 
His  very  politics  were  ethical.  Stating  in  one  of 
his  familiar  talks,  "  that  he  had  given  twelve  hours 
to  society  for  one  to  poetry,"  he  adds,  "The 
world  is  running  mad  with  the  notion  that  all  its 
evils  are  to  be  relieved  by  political  remedies ; 
whereas  the  great  evils  lie  deep  in  the  heart,  and 
nothing  but  religion  can  remove  them."  He  well 
knew  that  all  sound  political  economy  was  based 
on  public  virtue.  In  the  noble  work  that  he  did 
on  behalf  of  popular  rights,  and  in  his  soul-stir- 
ring sonnets  on  the  same  key  and  theme,  we 
can  see  that  he  was  laboring  for  the  civic  good 
through  the  use  of  moral  agencies.  The  peculiar 
views  which  he  held  of  nature  softened  and  en- 
nobled his  character;  so  that  he  always  connected 
conscience  with  national  progress,  and  made  it 
his  mission  as  a  man   and  a  poet  to   elevate  his 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  251 

race.  "  One  thing,"  he  said,  "  is  a  comfort  of  my 
old  age,  that  none  of  my  works  written  since  early 
youth  contains  a  line  I  should  wish  to  blot  out 
because  it  panders  to  the  baser  passions  of  our  na- 
ture." In  this  respect  he  falls  into  line  with  the 
larger  number  of  our  best  English  authors,  and 
confirms  the  character  of  English  literature  as 
eminently  moral.  In  this  respect  we  may  add, 
that  there  is  a  far  wider  distance  between  British 
and  Continental  Letters  than  the  breadth  of  the 
English  Channel. 

In  speaking  of  this  ethical  element  in  Words- 
worth's poetry,  it  is  in  place  to  refer  with  empha- 
sis to  his  conscientious  devotion  to  his  mission  as 
a  poet.  Poetry  was  his  solemn  calling,  and  he  pur- 
sued it  as  devoutly  as  a  priest  serves  his  parish,  or 
ministers  at  the  altar.  This  is  the  high  sentiment 
to  which  he  gives  expression  in  his  dedicatory 
verses  to  "  The  White  Doe  of  Rylstone  "  :— 

"  He  serves  the  Muses  erringly  and  ill, 
Whose  aim  is  pleasure  light  and  fugitive; 
Oh,  that  my  mind  were  equal  to  fulfill 
The  comprehensive  mandate  which  they  give." 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  we  do  not  find  in  our  au- 
thor's personal  history  the  presence  of  those  cru- 
cial struggles  which  have  tested  the  moral  fidelity 


252  Special  Discussions 

of  so  many  authors,  as  Dante  and  Cervantes, 
Milton  and  Bunyan.  He  did  not  suffer,  as  they, 
from  exile,  imprisonment,  or  poverty,  and  yet  he 
may  be  said  to  have  had  his  full  share  of  personal 
trials.  Mrs.  Browning,  in  her  "  Vision  of  the 
English  Poets,"  gives  us  a  touching  description 
of  the  four  pools,  the  waters  of  which  must  be 
tasted  by  every  successful  bard.  At  these  Words- 
worth had  knelt  and  drunk.  He  knew  what  it 
was  to  be  contemned  of  men.  Rarely  has  an  au- 
thor been  so  beset  in  his  early  life  by  the  critics 
and  reviewers.  Public  sentiment  was  prejudiced 
against  the  kindly  reception  of  his  poems,  while 
brother  bards,  either  from  envy  or  from  an  undue 
concession  to  the  reigning  criticism,  swelled  the 
general  voice  against  him.  Fully  thirty  years 
passed  before  he  rose  into  merited  repute,  and, 
even  after  this,  a  score  of  years  wes  spent  in  lit- 
erary conflict  ere  his  final  reputation  was  estab- 
lished. Christopher  North,  of  Blackwood,  and  De 
Quincey,  the  essayist,  are  led  to  rebuke  their  coun- 
trymen, and  to  praise  themselves  as  a  quarter  of 
a  century  in  advance  of  British  criticism  in  their 
high  appreciation  of  the  worth  of  Wordsworth. 
Through  all  this  hostile  and  malicious  fault- 
finding,   the    poet    of   the    Lakes    remained    more 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  253 

loyal  than  ever  to  his  sacred  trust.  At  the  tmie 
when  his  friends  were  the  least  friendly,  and  his 
foes  the  most  bitter,  he  took  up  the  defense  of 
his  own  productions  with  all  the  heroism  of  a 
knight.  Nor  was  this  all.  His  temptation  to 
abandon  the  sphere  of  verse  was  not  alone  from 
the  side  of  captious  judgment,  but  from  the  very 
abundance  of  his  worldly  resources  and  the  de- 
lights of  leisure.  Though  at  one  period  his  cir- 
cumstances were  somewhat  reduced,  all  difficul- 
ties soon  vanished,  and  full  provision  was  made 
for  his  needs.  With  all  the  appliances  of  luxury 
at  hand,  and  with  rare  inducements  on  the  part 
of  the  English  government  to  confine  his  atten- 
tion to  English  politics,  we  see  him  at  Rydal 
Mount  passing  a  life  of  modest  retiracy  and  fru- 
gality, devoted,  as  he  tells  us,  "  to  plain  living  and 
high  thinking."  More  than  once  had  he  been  en- 
ticed, as  Burns  had  been,  to  abandon  his  poetic 
work,  and  had  always  successfully  resisted.  Al- 
luding most  affectionately  to  the  helpful  sympathy 
of  his  sister  in  these  personal  trials,  he  writes  in 
"The  Prelude":— 

"  She  in  the  midst  of  all  preserved  me  still 
A  poet,  made  me  seek  beneath  that  name, 
And  that  alone,  my  ofliee  upon  earth." 


254  Special  Discussions 

In  all  this  the  ethical  element  of  the  poet's  nature 
was  manifest.  Poetry  was  a  matter  of  conscience, 
as  well  as  of  culture,  in  his  view,  and  he  pro- 
foundly felt  that  whoever  was  called  of  God  to 
this  high  ministry  of  verse  was  morally  bound  to 
prosecute  it  in  the  face  of  all  neglect  and  obstacle. 
2.  Its  Emotional  Character.  This  is  seen, 
mainly,  in  his  Human  Sympathies.  His  very 
theory  of  poetry  took  its  origin  in  a  broad  affec- 
tion for  man  as  man.  Such  a  conception  of  the 
function  of  poetry  would  have  been  utterly  for- 
eign to  any  other  than  a  catholic  nature.  We  can 
discern  at  this  stage  in  the  history  of  our  poet  a 
most  striking  resemblance  to  the  favorite  bard  of 
the  Lowland  Scotch.  Wordsworth  alludes  with 
pleasure  to  the  fact  that  he  can  stand  upon  the 
top  of  the  peaks  of  Cumberland  and  look  away  to 
Ellisland  — •  one  of  the  homes  of  Burns.  He  ex- 
presses deep  regret  that  he  had  not  enjoyed  more 
fully  the  fellowship  of  this  poet  of  nature  and  of 
man.  Each  of  them  had  been  born  and  bred  in 
lowly  life,  and  ardently  yearned  for  the  good  of 
the  people.  They  aimed  in  every  way  to  elevate 
the  common  classes  of  society,  and  especially 
through  their  literary  work  to  minister  to  their 
highest  needs.     If  in  the  prosecution  of  this  pur- 


The  Poetry  of  Wordszuorth  255 

pose  they  excited  against  them  the  reproaches  of 
the  great  and  affluent,  it  was  in  no  sense  because 
they  despised  the  upper  orders,  but  because  they 
honored  the  lower.  Hence  the  utter  falsity  of 
such  a  view  as  that  to  which  Devey  and  others 
give  expression,  "  that  Wordsworth  was  hampered 
by  themes  which  cut  him  off  from  genuine  sym- 
pathy with  the  largest  section  of  humanity;  that 
he  turned  his  back  upon  the  great  conservative 
classes  of  society;  that  he  scrupulously  avoided 
respectable  people ;  that  the  upper  ten  thousand 
were  practically  worthless  to  him;  that  his  heart 
beat  in  unison  with  the  rustic  poor  only,  at  home 
only  among  vagrant  pedlars  and  ragged  shep- 
herds." This  is  the  extreme  of  cynicism,  and 
smacks  of  Grub  Street,  in  its  literary  flavor. 
Totally  misleading,  there  is  just  enough  of  truth 
in  it  to  make  it  plausible  and  give  it  currency.  It 
is  true  that  Wordsworth,  as  Burns,  felt  more  at 
home  among  the  peasants  and  the  middle  classes 
than  among  the  aristocracy  of  wealth  and  position. 
This  is  not  to  concede,  however,  that  he  did  not 
accord  them  their  rightful  place.  His  life  was 
devoted  to  the  yeomanry  because  their  needs  were 
greater.  Just  so  long  as  the  privileged  classes 
were  true  to  their  privileges  they  had  a  staunch 


256  Special  Discussions 

supporter  in  the  person  of  our  author.  When, 
however,  the  lines  began  to  be  too  closely  drawn, 
and  the  doctrine  of  social  caste  was  exalted  be- 
yond measure,  then  Wordsworth  was  ever  found 
the  zealous  advocate  of  popular  rights  —  the  poet 
of  the  people.  Here  we  quote  from  Devey  words 
of  truth,  though  strangely  aside  from  his  previ- 
ous statements,  that  "  Wordsworth  designed  to 
erect  a  poetic  temple  at  the  shrine  of  which  the 
most  selfish  hearts  should  be  humanized,  and  a 
feeling  of  love  ever  kept  alive  between  the  polit- 
ically great  and  the  socially  defenseless."  This  is 
just  what  he  designed  and  if,  in  its  execution,  he 
oflfended  the  aristocracy  by  his  laudable  devotion 
to  the  humbler  orders  of  the  nation,  what  is  the 
result  of  this  but  to  make  it  all  the  worse  for  the 
aristocracy  in  their  social  exclusiveness !  "  I  de- 
sire from  posterity  no  other  praise,"  he  says, 
"  than  that  which  may  be  given  me  for  the  way 
in  which  my  poems  exhibit  man  in  his  essentially 
human  character  and  relations."  Hence  his  aim 
to  exalt  the  humblest  state.  Hence  his  messages 
of  cheer  to  the  sorrowing  and  suffering.  Hence 
his  discovery  of  something  attractive  in  objects  the 
most  unattractive.  In  this  respect,  at  least,  he 
was  the  poet  of  the  Commonalty,  and,  in  order  to 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  257 

reach  its  innermost  heart,  he  was  quite  content  to 
abandon  the  formal  diction  of  the  schools,  and 
use  "  great  plainness  of  speech."  It  was  his  aim 
to  construct  a  body  of  English  poetry  on  a  dis- 
tinctively popular  plane,  and  suffused  with  human 
sympathy. 

The  question  as  to  whether  Wordsworth's 
poetry  may  be  said  to  be  emotional,  apart  from 
that  element  of  feeling  which  arises  from  his  sym- 
pathies with  his  kind,  is  still  an  open  one,  and  not 
without  reason.  The  more  we  study  the  author 
and  his  verse,  however,  the  more  we  are  inclined 
to  give  him  credit  for  an  ever-larger  measure  of 
genuine  poetic  sentiment,  and  separate  him  from 
such  purely  didactic  authors  as  Dryden,  Pope, 
Akenside,  and  Rogers.  That  ethical  quality,  to 
which  reference  has  been  made,  has  in  itself  a  de- 
cidedly emotional  character.  His  ingenuous  devo- 
tion to  his  calling  had,  also,  something  of  this 
emotive  feature.  His  view  of  poetry,  and  of  na- 
ture as  related  to  it,  may  be  said  to  have  involved 
this  quality  of  feeling,  and  that  in  such  marked 
degree  that  Mr.  Brooke  and  other  recent  critics 
emphasize  his  "  poetic  sensibility."  It  is  true,  in- 
deed, that  we  find  nothing  in  Wordsworth  at  this 
point  to  remind  us   of  those  outbursts   of  tender 


258  Special  Discussions 

passion  which  mark  the  correspondence  of  Schil- 
ler and  Goethe,  of  Racine  and  Pascal,  of  Cowper 
and  Shelley.  There  is  nothing  of  the  sensuous 
sentiment  of  '*  Lalla  Rookh  "  or  of  "  Don  Juan," 
nor,  indeed,  of  the  ever-flowing  feeling  of  Chau- 
cer and  Spenser.  It  would  have  been  quite  im- 
possible for  him  to  have  written  in  prose  as 
Swift  wrote  to  Stella,  or  in  poetry  as  Burns 
penned  his  verses  to  the  lassies  of  the  Highlands. 
There  is  present,  however,  in  Wordsworth  a  kind 
of  subdued,  inward  poetic  impulse  which  is  just 
demonstrative  enough  to  be  discernible,  and  in 
beautiful  keeping  with  his  nature  as  retiring  and 
pensive.  In  his  references  to  English  woman- 
hood there  is  nothing  that  borders  upon  the  im- 
petuous outflow  of  the  feelings  of  the  heart,  and 
yet  the  most  cursory  reader  can  detect  the  presence 
of  high  personal  regard  and  genuine  love.  So, 
in  his  allusions  to  Coleridge  and  other  literary 
colleagues,  and  in  his  expressed  opinions  as  to 
the  great  questions  of  social  reform  and  the  high 
interests  of  English  poetry.  What  Mackeniie 
would  call  the  "  Man  of  Eeeling "  is  undoubtedly 
visible,  and  yet  more  concealed  than  apparent.  A 
careful  perusal  of  his  longer  poems,  as  well  as 
his   Ecclesiastical   and    Descriptive     Sketches   and 


The  Poetry  of  Wordszvorth  250 

Lyrical  Ballads,  will  serve  to  reveal  what  we  may 
term  the  substantial  presence  of  emotion,  and  go 
far  to  redeem  his  reputation  for  an  order  of  verse 
so  matter-of-fact  and  commonplace  as  to  awaken 
no   response   from   impassioned  natures. 

3.  Its  Intellectual  Character.  There  is  no 
stage  in  the  interpretation  of  Wordsworth's  per- 
sonal and  poetic  nature  where  he  will  better  stand 
the  test  of  close  inspection  than  just  here.  His 
type  of  life,  and  order  of  verse  were  those  of  the 
thinker.  English  critics  have  termed  him,  in  this 
sense,  a  philosopher.  Perhaps  the  one  word 
which  will  best  express  the  idea  at  this  point  is 
Reflection,  in  its  strictly  mental  meaning.  In  this 
particular  he  has  no  superior,  and  but  few  rivals, 
in  English  letters.  Coleridge  is  nearer  to  him 
than  any  other  one,  and,  had  he  written  as  much 
verse  as  Wordsworth,  would  have  been  still  near- 
er in  literary  type. 

"  The  outward  show  of  sky  and  earth, 
Of  hill  and  valley,  he  has  viewed. 
But  impulses  of  deeper  birth 
Have  come  to  him  in  solitude." 

The  more  fully  we  thus  come  to  understand  the 
real  poet  behind  and  beneath  his  poetry,  the  more 
clearly  we  shall  note  the  absence  of  the  objective 


260  Special  Discussions 

and  the  ever-active  presence  of  the  inward  eye. 
His  habit  of  mind  was  introspective,  rather  than 
excursive  or  discursive.  Even  in  his  poem  ''  The 
Excursion "  the  method  is  metaphysical,  rather 
than  historical.  His  very  boyhood,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  marked  by  philosophic  gravity,  as  was 
that  of  Milton.  He  was  always  meditating.  He 
was  in  love  with  solitude,  and  largely  because  it 
was  congenial  to  his  poetic  moods  and  needs.  As 
the  contemplative  Shelley,  he  was  often  hidden  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  forest  or  the  hills,  thinking 
and  composing.  He  was  wont  to  indulge  in  men- 
tal reverie  —  the  study  of  self,  of  nature,  and  of 
God.  When  residing  at  Alfoxden,  so  peculiar 
were  his  habits  that  the  citizens  came  to  regard 
him  as  a  mysterious  visitant  to  their  village.  This 
conviction  became  at  length  so  decided  with  them, 
that  when  he  and  Coleridge  walked  forth  to- 
gether in  quiet  contemplation,  the  eye  of  the  gov- 
ernment officials  was  upon  them.  We  can  but 
slightly  appreciate  the  radical  change  which  the 
poet  must  have  experienced  when  he  left  his  se- 
cluded home  for  the  publicity  of  academic  life  at 
Cambridge.  He  speaks  feelingly  when  he  tells  us 
that  "  he  was  not  for  that  hour  or  that  place." 
Even  there,  however,   scholastic  routine  and   for- 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  261 

malism  could  not  greatly  modify  his  mental  habit, 
and  we  still  find  him  studying  nature  and  self 
rather  than  books.  When  publishing  his  Descrip- 
tive Sketches,  he  does  it,  as  he  says,  to  show  "  that 
although  he  gained  no  honors  at  the  University, 
he  could  do  something."  He  meant  to  say  that 
he  had  been  intently  engaged  in  the  study  of  truth 
outside  the  prescribed  manuals.  So  strong  is  this 
reflective  habit  that  even  in  his  travels  he  was  de- 
veloping it.  Though  a  stamp  distributor  in  the 
employ  of  the  English  Government,  he  never  al- 
lowed this  to  interfere  with  the  supreme  object  of 
his  literary  life.  How  strange  and  ill-timed  must 
have  been  his  visit  to  the  French  capital!  The 
reserved  and  recluse  student  was  suddenly  plunged 
into  the  very  center  of  Parisian  politics.  Had  he 
not  been  delivered  from  it  all  just  when  he  was, 
his  real  poetic  character  might  have  been  material- 
ly impaired. 

We  can  readily  see  that  Wordsworth  was  much 
more  at  home  in  philosophic  Germany.  He  had 
that  quality  of  meditativeness  so  prominent  in  the 
old  Teutonic  mind.  His  work  was  similar  to 
theirs  —  to  sound  the  depths  of  man's  mental  and 
ethical  being.  We  hear  him  confessing  that  the 
very  act  of  writing  was  too  external  and  manual 


'^Q2  Special  Discussions 

to  be  agreeable.  He  found  his  pleasure  in  mental 
composition,  leaving  it  to  others  to  interpret  and 
transcribe.  It  was  in  accordance  with  this  same 
mental  habit  that  we  find  him  possessed  of  but 
few  books.  It  is  probable  that  Southey  spent  as 
much  time  over  his  library  in  the  course  of  a  month 
as  Wordsworth  did  over  his  scanty  one  in  years. 
Even  what  he  did  read  was  rather  for  the  pur- 
pose of  recreation  than  for  profit.  This  explains 
his  fondness  for  fiction  and  travels.  The  sources 
whence  he  drew  his  stores  and  inspiration  were 
internal  and  concealed.  It  is  thus  one  of  the  dis- 
tinctive features  of  his  poetry  that  it  requires  men- 
tal sobriety  on  the  part  of  the  reader  to  under- 
stand and  enjoy  it.  As  he  reads,  he  feels  that 
here  is  a  deep  mental  and  moral  experience  into 
sympathy  with  which  he  must,  if  possible,  place 
himself,  in  order  to  the  best  results.  The  friv- 
olous and  the  superficial  find  nothing  here.  Hence 
Wordsworth  could  never  become,  as  to  his  thought 
and  general  style,  the  poet  of  the  masses.  Light- 
minded  and  leisure-loving  readers  will  at  once  dis- 
card him,  as  indeed  they  have  already  done,  for 
something  more  congenial.  Reflective  minds, 
however,  will  seek  and  relish  such  high  discourse, 
and  will  be  all  the  more  repaid  the  longer  they 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  263 

read  him.  The  author  has  given  us  in  "  The 
Prelude  "  a  true  description  of  his  own  character 
in  this  regard  when,  after  alluding  to  men  of  elo- 
quence and  active  life,  he  adds : — 

"Others  too  there  are  among  the  walks  of  homely  life 
Still  higher,  men  for  contemplation  formed 
Shy  and  unpracticed  in  the  strife  of  phrase, 
Theirs  is  the  language  of  the  heavens,  the  power, 
The  thought,  the  image  and  the  silent  joy. 
Words  are  but  under  agents  in  their  souls. 
When  they  are  groping  with  their  greatest  strength 
They  do  not  breathe  among  them." 

The  power  of  his  poetry  Hes  thus  in  its  ideas  — 
seminal  and  suggestive.  It  is,  in  a  true  sense, 
psychological.  It  is  mainly  because  of  the  ab- 
sence of  this  element,  that  poetry  has  come  to 
mean,  with  so  many,  mere  flights  of  fancy  and 
superficial  musings,  with  no  solid  substratum  of 
truth,  as  if,  indeed,  it  were  the  product  of  erratic 
minds,  and  written  only  for  readers  of  a  capri- 
cious mental  habit.  Wordsworth  has  taught  us 
this,  if  nothing  else,  that  genuine  poetry  is  some- 
thing more  than  imagination  or  sentiment,  that  it 
is  the  expression  of  thought  through  these  as  a  me- 
dium. It  is  here,  especially,  that  the  signal  benefit 
of  this  order  of  verse  is  seen,  in  that  the  poet 
magnifies  the  philosophic  element  throughout;  es- 


264  Special  Discussions 

tablishes  a  union  between  the  reflective  and  the 
impassioned,  and  redeems  the  poetic  art  from  the 
current   charge  of  mental   weakness. 

Such  may  be  said  to  be,  in  brief,  the  ethical, 
emotional,  and  intellectual  quality  of  the  poetry 
of  Wordsworth.  Each  of  these  three  fundamental 
characteristics  is  marked  by  some  degree  of  excel- 
lence —  sufficiently  so  to  invite  and  reward  the 
careful  study  of  the  critic  and  the  reader,  and  yet 
not  sufficiently  so  to  satisfy  the  largest  demands 
of  either.  We  feel,  as  we  read  and  examine,  that 
something  is  lacking  by  the  presence  of  which 
the  influence  of  the  poet  would  be  manifestly  in- 
creased, and  we  cannot  greatly  wonder  at  the 
earnest  discussion,  still  in  progress,  as  to  just 
what  is,  or  what  is  not,  the  poetical  merit  of  our 
author. 

The  question,  therefore,  arises  as  to  the  possible 
defect  or  defects  of  Wordsworth's  verse.  We  be- 
lieve that  the  whole  truth  may  be  summarily 
expressed  at  this  point  in  the  one  phrase  —  Lim- 
itation of  Power. 

The  one  quality  of  high  poetic  genius  which 
Wordsworth  does  not  possess  is  Range  of  Func- 
tion,   Poetic    Prescience    and    Breadth.     This    is 


The  Poetry  of  Wordszvorth  265 

so  true  that  it  finds  its  illustration  in  each  of  the 
spheres  of  poetic  life  that  we  have  examined. 

The  ethical  character  of  his  verse  was  strictly 
ethical,  rather  than  positively  Christian.  In  this 
respect  it  was  restricted  in  its  province  and  in- 
fluence, and  obliges  the  most  loyal  advocates  of 
the  author's  work  to  assume  negative  ground 
where  all  should  be  outspoken  and  open. 

So  as  to  the  emotional  element.  It  is,  as  seen, 
undoubtedly  present,  and  yet  present  under  pre- 
scribed conditions,  outside  the  confines  of  which 
it  never  passes.  There  is  a  kind  and  measure  of 
emotion  rarely,  if  ever,  rising  to  the  form  of  con- 
trolling passion.  There  is  genuine  sentiment  with- 
out the  presence  of  all-engrossing  fervor  and  unc- 
tion. The  flow  of  feeling  is  not  so  deep  and  potent 
as  to  be  resistless,  bearing  all  before  it  and,  with- 
al, majestic  in  its  movement.  We  hear  none  of 
those  surgings  of  soul  which  characterize  the 
experience  of  the  chosen  few  in  the  realm  of 
verse.  Where  we  expect  to  find  an  ever-deepen- 
ing and  ever-widening  expression  of  emotive 
life,  we  note  a  studied  reserve.  There  is  too  much 
of  the  cautious  and  conventional  in  all  this,  so 
that  while  we  acknowledge  some  degree  of  genu- 
ine  poetic   impulse   it   always     reaches   its    fullest 


266  Special  Discussions 

measure  this  side  of  the  impassioned  and  sublime. 
As  to  the  intellectual  feature  of  the  poetry  be- 
fore us,  such  limitation  of  function  is  especially 
manifest.  This  narrowness  of  mental  horizon  is 
Wordsworth's  main  defect.  There  is  not  only  a 
subjective,  but  an  individual,  element  in  his  po- 
etry, which  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  take  any 
higher  ground  than  he  did.  Had  he  not  spent  a 
large  portion  of  his  earlier  life  under  the  broaden- 
ing influence  of  European  travel,  this  restriction 
of  power  would  have  been  still  more  marked. 
Wordsworth's  most  ardent  admirers  cannot  justly 
call  him  a  many-sided  man  or  poet.  In  this  lack 
of  comprehensiveness  and  reach  is  found  the  suf- 
ficient explanation  of  the  undramatic  quality  of 
his  verse,  and  his  failure  to  construct  an  English 
epic.  He  was  too  limited  in  his  gifts  and  faculties 
to  excel  in  either  of  these  departments  of  repre- 
sentative verse.  His  mental  acreage  was  not  spa- 
cious, and,  hence,  "  The  Prelude "  and  "  Excur- 
sion "  apart,  we  have  from  his  pen  no  extensive 
product.  His  genius  expanded  itself  in  the  form 
best  adapted  to  its  ability.  Doing  his  best  poet- 
ical work  before  he  was  forty,  we  fail  to  mark  that 
gradual  development  of  power  and  result  of  right 
expected  from  the  master  poet.     His  limitation,  in 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  267 

fact,  was  in  the  sphere  of  creative  capability.  He 
had  neither  the  imagination  nor  the  grasp  requi- 
site to  real  inventive  work,  nor  yet,  indeed,  that 
continuity  of  power  absolutely  essential  to  the 
typical  forms  of  literary  art.  Hence  his  want  of 
humor,  of  the  facile  and  flexible  qualities  of  verse ; 
of  adaptation  to  all  classes  and  circumstances;  of 
range  of  diction  and  method  —  in  fine,  of  intel- 
lectual expansion  —  of  genius. 

As  to  Wordsworth's  place  in  English  poetry  the 
most  diverse  opinions  have  been  held.  "  For  our 
own  part,"  says  North,  "  we  believe  that  Words- 
worth's genius  has  had  a  greater  influence  on  the 
spirit  of  poetry  in  Britain  than  any  other  individ- 
ual mind,"  while  it  is  reserved  for  Mr.  Arnold, 
in  his  criticism  of  Emerson,  strongly  to  confirm 
this  opinion  as  he  says^  "  Wordsworth's  poetry  is, 
in  my  judgment,  the  most  important  work  done 
in  verse  in  our  language  during  the  present  cen- 
tury." On  the  other  hand,  Jeffrey  and  his  school 
ranked  him  as  a  third-rate  versifier,  in  which  de- 
cision Hood,  his  biographer,  substantially  concurs. 

In  each  of  these  deliverances  we  fail  to  reach 
the  exact  truth.  Wordsworth  is  not  the  genius 
which  North  and  Arnold  would  make  him,  neither 
is  he  the  poetic  weakling  of  Hood  and  the  Edin- 


2 68  Special  Discussions 

burgh  critics.  He  has,  in  a  sense,  a  place  of  his 
own,  and,  if  he  must  be  classified,  stands  among 
the  first  names  of  England's  second  grade  of  poets. 

He  had  too  little  genius  to  rank  with  Shake- 
speare and  Milton;  he  had  far  too  much  to  rank 
with  Crabbe  and  Rogers  and  Campbell.  Nor  is 
this  all.  It  was  one  of  the  high  aims  and  results 
of  Wordsworth's  work  to  call  attention  to  the 
need  of  natural  verse,  as  distinct  from  the  stilted 
couplets  of  the  classical  school.  This  he  did  by 
his  fervent  love  of  natural  beauty,  by  his  adoption 
of  the  common  speech  of  men,  and  by  his  subordi- 
nation of  form  to  thought.  Though  not  the 
founder  of  a  new  school  of  poetry,  he  was,  in  a 
sense,  its  central  figure,  and  did  a  work,  though 
possible  to  others,  yet  never  attempted  by  them. 
We  look  in  vain,  from  Cowper  to  Tennyson,  for 
any  one  competent  to  its  accomplishment.  Cole- 
ridge alone  had  similar  poetic  instincts  and  apti- 
tudes, but  soon  betook  himself  to  prose  and  phi- 
losophy. Shelley  and  Keats,  Southey  and  Scott, 
were  working  on  different  lines,  while  one  of 
Wordsworth's  most  beneficent  aims  was  to  present 
a  solemn  protest  in  his  verse  against  the  sensuous 
lines  of  Moore  and  Byron. 

In  the   light  of  such  facts,    criticism    must  be 


The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth  269 

somewhat  cautious,  lest  it  overreach  itself  on  the 
side  of  depreciation  and  severity.  English  poetry, 
as  indeed  English  literature,  could  ill  spare  his 
name  and  work.  He  had  a  high  mission,  and 
may  be  said  worthily  to  have  fulfilled  it;  nor  can 
his  influence  as  a  poet  be  measured  by  mere  rela- 
tive position  and  specific  poetic  product.  He  ap- 
peared, and  was  prominent,  just  when  he  was  need- 
ed, and  left  an  impression  on  behalf  of  clean  and 
thoughtful  poetry  that  will  last  as  long  as  our 
language  lasts.  Defamed  and  neglected  at  first, 
he  came  at  length  to  just  appreciation.  Again  al- 
lowed to  retire  for  a  time  into  comparative  ob- 
scurity, literary  history  strangely  repeats  itself  in 
that  special  revival  of  interest  now  discernible  in 
all  that  pertains  to  his  character  and  work. 

While  there  is  in  his  poetry,  as  suggested,  a 
something  lacking  that  we  greatly  need,  there  is, 
also,  it  must  be  conceded,  a  something  present  that 
we  need  with  equal  intensity  of  desire.  It  is  that 
something  lacking  that  excludes  our  poet,  with  all 
his  excellence,  from  the  innermost  circle  of  Eng- 
lish bards;  it  is  that  something  present  that,  with 
all  his  defects,  makes  him  essential  to  our  litera- 
ture and  our  personal  culture. 

Despite  all  adverse  criticism,   all  acknowledged 


270  Special  Discussions 

limitation  of  faculty  and  function  in  the  man  and 
in  the  poet,  we  are  still  glad  to  indorse  what  we 
read  on  the  tablet  above  his  pew  in  the  little  church 
at  Grasmere,  "  In  memory  of  William  Words- 
worth, a  true  philosopher  and  poet,  who,  by  the 
special  gift  and  calling  of  Almighty  God,  whether 
he  discoursed  on  Man  or  Nature,  failed  not  to  lift 
up  the  heart  to  Holy  Things ;  tired  not  of  main- 
taining the  cause  of  the  Poor  and  Simple,  and  so 
in  perilous  times  was  raised  up  to  be  chief  minis- 
ter not  only  of  Noblest  Poesy,  but  of  High  and 
Sacred  Truth." 


VI 


TENNYSON'S  "IDYLLS  OF  THE  KING" 

Every  critic  of  Tennyson  raises,  at  the  outset, 
the  question  as  to  the  appropriateness  of  the  term 
"  idyll "  as  used  by  the  poet.  Meaning,  in  its 
Greek  form,  a  little  image  or  representation,  it  is 
then  applied  to  a  short,  descriptive  poem  of  the 
lyric  order,  and  especially  adapted  to  pastoral 
themes.  There  is  no  reason,  however,  why  such 
a  poem  should  not  be  long  as  well  as  short;  any 
more  than  that  the  lyric  should  always  take  the 
form  of  the  sonnet,  and  never  that  of  the  extended 
poem,  as  "  L' Allegro  "  or  •'  Comus."  What  Ten- 
nyson evidently  emphasizes  in  the  poem  before  us 
is  the  quality,  or  literary  type,  of  the  verse,  rath- 
er than  its  length  —  its  descriptive,  symbolic,  or 
pictorial  character,  while  the  term  "  idyll  "  that  he 
uses  is  all  the  more  appropriate,  in  that  the  poem 
is  made  up  of  a  series,  a  gallery  of  word  pictures, 
each  in  itself  being  entitled  to  the  name  "  idyll," 
applied  to  the  poem  as  a  whole.  The  name  "  The 
Divine  Comedy,"  given  by  Dante  to  his  celebrated 
271 


272  Special  Discussions 

poem,  is   far  more  rightfully  open  to  criticism  as 
to  literary  adaptation. 

1.  We  notice,  first,  the  origin  of  the  poem. 
This  is  partly  historical  and  partly  traditional.  We 
are  taken  back  at  once  to  the  name  of  the  notable 
Sir  Thomas  Malory,  the  Welshman,  whose 
"  Morte  d'Arthur  "  was  finished  in  the  ninth  year 
of  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  of  England, 
and  based  on  the  legends  and  traditions  gathered 
up  in  the  French  romances  of  the  thirteenth  and 
fourteenth  centuries.  There  are  the  so-called  Ar- 
thurian Legends  of  Merlin  and  Tristan,  and 
Lancelot  and  the  Round  Table.  Malory's  work  is, 
of  course,  a  modification  or  free  compilation  of 
the  material  which  he  had  in  hand  from  these 
earlier  sources  in  foreign  literature;  and,  yet,  it 
is  so  well  executed  that  Saintsbury,  in  his  "  Speci- 
mens of  English  Prose  Style,"  begins  with  Malory 
as  rightly  entitled  to  open  the  illustrious  list  of 
English  Prose  Writers.  He  speaks  of  the  version 
as  "  having  caught  the  whole  spirit  and  beauty  of 
the  Arthurian  Legends,  and  as  one  of  the  first 
monuments  of  accomplished  English  Prose."  His 
selections  open  with  "  The  Death  of  Lancelot." 
The  issue  of  this  work  from  Caxton's  press  in 
1485,  and  its  immediate  and  continuous  popularity 


Tennyson's  "Idylls  of  the  King""        273 

evince  the  esteem  in  which  it  was  held  by  schol- 
ars and  the  general  public.  An  edition  by  South- 
ey,  as  late  in  English  literary  history  as  1817,  con- 
firms the  same  opinion  as  to  its  comparative 
merits. 

As  Malory's  version  takes  us  back  to  the  days 
of  Chaucer,  we  must  go  still  further  back  to  1138, 
io  the  days  of  the  old  Welshman,  Geoffrey  of 
Monmouth,  the  idol  and  the  butt  of  later  chron- 
iclers, as  he,  in  turn,  takes  us  back  to  the  fifth  and 
sixth  centuries.  Be  his  character  what  it  may,  it 
is  well  known  that  at  this  time  King  Arthur  was 
a  commanding  personage  in  history  and  legend, 
the  synonym  for  all  the  virtues,  the  representative 
of  the  medieval  and  chivalric,  and  so  portrayed  in 
prose  and  song  down  to  the  days  of  Malory  and 
Elizabeth. 

In  this  mass  of  data,  as  revised  and  adorned  by 
Malory,  Tennyson  found  the  occasion  and  subject- 
matter  of  his  poem,  bringing  to  Malory's  version 
a  far  defter  hand  than  Malory  brought  to  the  story 
of  Geoffrey.  One  of  the  Idylls,  "  Geraint  and 
Enid,"  is  taken,  as  we  learn,  from  the  Mabinogion, 
a  translation  of  old  Welsh  legends,  published  in 
1838.  As  Malory  with  Geoffrey  and  Walter  Map, 
so  Tennyson   with  Malory,  took  his   own  way  in 


274       *  Special  Discussions 

the  use  of  material  at  hand,  and,  moreover,  may 
be  said  so  thoroughly  to  have  modernized  it,  as 
to  make  it,  in  a  sense,  a  poem  of  the  present  age. 
Without  entering  into  the  precise  form  and 
measure  of  these  changes  made  by  the  Laureate 
in  the  recasting  of  the  story,  suffice  it  to  say,  that 
his  two  leading  objects  seem  to  have  been  to  put 
the  story  into  better  artistic  shape,  by  omission, 
modification,  and  addition,  and  to  give  to  it  a 
more  pervading  ethical  purpose,  doing  here  some- 
what as  Chaucer  and  Spenser  did  with  the  Ital- 
ian romances  which  they  consulted.  He  aimed, 
indeed,  so  to  reconstruct  it  as  to  make  it  some- 
what appropriate  to  the  nineteenth  century,  just 
as  Spenser,  in  his  semi-medieval  poem  "  The 
Faerie  Queene,"  treats  of  Elizabeth,  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots,  and  Leicester,  and  the  leading  historical 
events  of  the  day.  The  exception  taken  by  Swin- 
burne and  others  to  the  liberties  which  Tennyson 
has  assumed  with  Malory  would  be  more  timely, 
were  Malory's  story,  as  based  on  Geoffrey,  un- 
mixed historical  fact. 

2.  The  structure  or  plan  of  the  poem  should 
next  be  considered.  The  poem,  as  a  whole,  is 
made  up  of  twelve  distinct  parts,  corresponding, 
in    this    respect,    to    the    twelve    books    of    the 


Tennyson's  "  Idylls   of  the  King  "         275 

"  ^neid "  and  "  Paradise  Lost "  and  the  twelve 
contemplated  books  of  "  The  Faerie  Queene." 
These  twelve  Idylls  are  made  up  of  "  The  Intro- 
duction," under  the  name  of  "  The  Coming  of 
Arthur,"  and  the  Conclusion,  called  "  The  Passing 
of  Arthur,"  including,  in  lines  170-440,  "  Morte 
d' Arthur,"  the  first  part  of  the  "  Idylls  "  that  was 
composed,  appearing  in  1842.  Between  these  open- 
ing and  closing  Idylls  are  the  ten  Idylls  pertain- 
ing but  indirectly  to  King  Arthur.  They  are  as 
follows :  "  The  Marriage  of  Geraint,"  "  Geraint 
and  Enid,"  "  Merlin  and  Vivien,"  "  Lancelot  and 
Elaine,"  "Guinevere,"  "The  Holy  Grail," 
"  Pelleas  and  Ettarre,"  "  The  Last  Tournament," 
"  Gareth  and  Lynette,"  "  Balin  and  Balan."  It 
will  thus  be  seen  that  the  time  of  the  poem's  prep- 
aration runs  from  1842,  the  date  of  the  fragment, 
'Morte  d'Arthur,"  to  1885,  the  date  of  "Balin 
and  Balan,"  a  period,  in  all,  of  forty-three  years, 
as  compared  with  the  seventeen  years  of  the  prep- 
aration of  "  In  Memoriam."  When  critics  speak 
of  the  "  Idylls  "  as  covering  "  more  than  half  a  cen- 
tury "  in  preparation,  reference  is  made  to  such 
a  poem  as  "  The  Lady  of  Shalott,"  published  in 
1832,  as  it  prefigured  the  story  of  Elaine.  The 
poem  thus  covers  the  best  years  of  the  author's 


276  Special  Discussions 

life  and  work,  and  may  naturally  be  expected  to 
embody  the  best  elements  of  his  mental  and  poetic 
power. 

What  Elsdale  has  called  "  the  growth  of  the 
Idylls  "  is  here  worthy  of  note.  As  already  stated, 
the  poem  opens  in  1842  with  "  Morte  d' Arthur," 
which  the  poet  calls  the  Fragment,  the  eleventh 
book  of  a  young  poet's  epic.  King  Arthur,  the  re- 
maining books  having  been  destroyed  by  fire,  just 
as  the  six  closing  books  of  "  The  Faerie  Queene  " 
are  supposed  by  some  critics  to  have  been  lost. 
This  reference  is,  of  course,  to  be  taken  figura- 
tively, as  indicating  that  the  author  had  prospec- 
tively in  mind  the  composition  of  such  an  elab- 
orate work,  without  having,  as  yet,  realized  it.  To 
him  it  seemed  in  a  sense  as  real  as  if  it  had  been 
written  and  published.  Several  years  later,  in  1859, 
the  actual  development  of  the  poem  began  in  the 
preparation  of  four  separate  Idylls  — "  Enid," 
"Vivien,"  "Elaine,"  and  "Guinevere";  "Enid" 
being  divided  into  two  parts  or  poems  — "  The 
Marriage  of  Geraint,"  "  Geraint  and  Enid."  In 
1869,  what  is  now  the  Introduction,  "The  Com- 
ing of  Arthur,"  appeared,  as  also  "  The  Holy 
Grail,"   "  Pelleas  and   Ettarre,"   and   what  is  now 


Tennyson's  ''Idylls  of  the  King''         277 

the  Conclusion,  "  The  Passing  of  Arthur,"  includ- 
ing "  Morte  d'Arthur,"  the  first  fragment. 

In  1871,  1872,  and  1885,  respectively,  there  ap- 
peared the  remaining  portions  — "  The  Last 
Tournament,"  "  Gareth  and  Lynette,"  and  "  Balin 
and  Balan,"  this  last  Idyll  being  included  in  the 
collection  "  Tiresias  and  Other  Poems." 

One  of  the  singular  features  of  the  poem  as  to 
structure  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  the  order  of  origi- 
nal composition  is  by  no  means  the  order  of  later 
arrangement,  the  Introduction  appearing  in  1869, 
and  the  Conclusion  in  1869,  a  portion  of  it,  "  The 
Death  of  Arthur,"  having  been  the  first  part  pub- 
lished, 1842.  There  is  absolute  correctness,  there- 
fore, in  the  statement  of  critics  "  that  he  began 
with  the  end  ('Morte  d'Arthur'),  and  continued 
with  the  beginning  ('The  Coming  of  Arthur'), 
and  ended  with  the  middle  of  the  story  "  ("  BaHn 
and  Balan"  and  ''Gareth  and  Lynette").  He 
thus  made  it  evident,  that,  while  he  had  the  en- 
tire content  of  the  poem  in  mind,  it  was  only  in 
the  most  general  way  and  without  any  very  def- 
inite idea  as  to  just  how  the  diflferent  sections  or 
Idylls  were  to  stand  related  to  each  other  and  to 
the  poem  as  a  whole. 

Hence,  the  open  discussion  as  to  the  Unity  of 


278  Special  Discussions 

the  Idylls,  the  safest  position  being,  that,  while 
there  is  enough  sequence  and  symmetry  to  affirm 
that  the  various  Idylls  have  a  common  idea,  and 
constitute  one  poem  rather  than  twelve  poems, 
there  is,  on  the  other  hand,  such  a  freedom  of  ad- 
justment and  commingling  of  facts  and  truths, 
that  the  principle  of  unity  cannot  be  pressed  to  its 
logical  fullness.  There  is,  as  Aristotle  demands,  a 
beginning,  a  middle,  and  an  end,  but,  this  said, 
all  is  said,  while,  as  already  seen,  these  very  parts 
in  their  relation  to  each  other,  as  the  poem  now 
stands,  do  not  express  the  original  order  of  com- 
position. 

It  is  not  improbable,  moreover,  that  some  por- 
tions of  the  poem^  such  as  "  Gareth  and  Lynette," 
were  afterthoughts,  nor  is  there  such  an  absolute 
need  of  each  of  the  twelve  parts  to  complete  the 
supposed  unity,  that  one  or  more  of  them  could 
not  be  spared  and  the  logical  unity  of  the  poem 
be  preserved. 

Still  further,  as  to  poetic  structure,  the  excel- 
lence of  Tennyson's  blank  verse  as  seen  in  the 
"  Idylls  "  should  be  emphasized.  Having  the  ben- 
efit of  all  the  preceding  use  of  it  by  English  au- 
thors, from  the  time  of  Surrey  and  Milton  to  his 
own  day,  he  so  brought  to  the  application  of  it  his 


Tennyson's  ''  Idylls  of  the  King  "         279 

own  poetic  genius  and  sense  of  beauty  that,  as 
Stedman  states  it,  "  it  impressed  itself  upon  the 
English  mind  as  a  new  and  vigorous  form  of  our 
grandest  English  measure."  It  is,  moreover,  no- 
ticeable that  his  use  of  it  in  the  earlier  portions  is 
superior  to  that  of  the  later,  and  this,  in  part,  from 
the  fact  that  the  four  Idylls  of  1869,  taken  togeth- 
er, are  of  such  poetic  excellence  as  to  have  evoked 
the  poet's  best  ability  as  a  mechanician  in  verse. 
Here,  as  elsewhere,  it  is  evident  that  the  better  the 
poetry  is  in  its  essential  quality,  the  better  is  the 
external  structure  that  it  may  be  made  to  assume. 

3.  We  may  now  inquire  as  to  the  ceniral  and 
subordinate  teachings  of  the  poem. 

As  to  its  main  teaching,  the  poet  himself  has 
not  left  us  in  doubt,  as  he  states  it  in  the  "  Dedi- 
cation to  the  Queen  "  at  the  close  of  the  Collec- 
tion, 

"  Accept  this  old,  imperfect  tale, 
New-old,  and  shadowing  Sense  at  war  with  Soul." 

It  is,  thus,  subjectively,  the  old  and  ever-new 
struggle  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit,  the  lower 
and  the  higher  nature, —  the  essence  of  the  Pauline 
doctrine  represented  in  legend  and  song. 

On  the  objective  side,  the  central  truth  may  be 
said  to  be  the  fortunes  of  King  Arthur  and  his 


280  Special  Discussions 

knights;  the  glory,  dedine,  and  downfall  of  the 
Round  Table,  its  dissolution  and  ruin  being 
caused  by  the  grievous  sin  of  Queen  Guinevere  in 
her  relation  to  Lancelot.  It  is  to  this  external 
teaching  that  the  poet  especially  refers  at  the 
opening  of  the  "  Idylls,"  as  he  dedicates  them  to 
the  memory  of  Prince  Albert  the  Good,  and  con- 
soles the  sorrowing  queen  by  comparing  him  to 
Arthur,  the  ideal  knight.  Critics  have  spoken  of 
this  dominant  teaching  under  various  forms ;  as, 
''  Man's  conflict  with  sin  and  fate,"  as  the  protest 
in  man  against  the  supremacy  of  the  bestial ;  as  the 
mission  of  man  to  his  fellows,  or,  in  the  words  of 
Elsdale,  "  as  one  long  study  of  failure."  What- 
ever the  form,  the  primal  principle  is  the  same, 
and  makes  the  poem  a  great  object-lesson  on  the 
Philosophy  of  Life, —  its  evil  and  good,  its  rewards 
and  punishments. 

Closely  connected  with  this  central  teaching  are 
others  of  subordinate,  and  yet  important,  inter- 
est; such  as,  the  poet's  lofty  ideal  of  womanhood, 
given  us  in  "  Enid  "  and  "  Elaine  " ;  his  devotion 
to  the  beauty  of  the  natural  world,  as  seen  in 
Lynette's  spontaneous  outbursts  to  stars  and  sun 
and  birds  and  flowers;  the  vanity  of  fame  and 
wealth;  the  mighty  power  of  evil  in  the  soul  and 


Tennyson's  ''Idylls   of  the  King''         281 

in  the  world;  the  sureness  of  Nemesis  to  the 
guilty;  the  temptations  of  youth  and  manhood  and 
old  age;  the  evil  workings  of  suspicion,  as  in 
Geraint's  attitude  toward  Enid ;  passion  and 
retribution,  as  in  "  Elaine  " ;  the  glory  of  fidelity  to 
simple  duty,  as  in  "  The  Holy  Grail,"  and  so  on 
from  one  teaching  to  another  through  the  series 
as  a  whole. 

In  fine,  we  see  here  a  great  ethical  or  meditative 
poem,  evincing  all  that  variety  of  truth  which  nat- 
urally belongs  to  so  profound  and  fruitful  a  topic 
in  the  hands  "  of  one  who  is  aware  of  the  pro- 
found realities  .  .  .  lying  everywhere  beneath  the 
visible  surface  of  things  in  this  world."  Dr.  van 
Dyke  has  gathered  up,  in  an  interesting  way,  "  A 
List  of  Biblical  Allusions  and  Quotations  in  the 
Works  of  Tennyson."  Not  a  few  of  these  are 
from  the  "  Idylls  " ;  so  much  so  as  to  give  to  the 
poem  a  decidedly  devout  tone,  and  make  its  final 
purpose  conducive  to  the  development  of  con- 
science and  character.  It  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the 
distinctive  merits  of  the  poem,  that  the  author 
has  taken  this  confused  mass  of  earlier  legend  and 
conjecture,  and,  on  the  basis  of  it,  constructed  a 
poem  of  an  elevated  order.  There  is  a  sense  in 
which,   in   this  particular,   there   is   a    strong   re- 


282  Special  Discussions 

semblance  in  the  final  purpose  of  the  "  Idylls  "  and 
of  "  The  Faerie  Queene."  Just  as  Spenser  aimed 
to  set  forth  the  character  and  life  of  an  English 
gentleman  in  the  most  exalted  meaning  of  the 
term,  for  a  pattern  to  the  youth  of  England,  so 
Tennyson  has  pictured  an  "  ideal  knight,"  if  so 
be  English  youth  might  be  stimulated  thereby  to 
high  endeavor  and  worthy  living.  Here,  also,  the 
"  Idylls  "  and  "  In  Memoriam  "  agree,  in  that, 
with  all  their  many  differences,  they  exalt  the 
supremacy  of  truth  and  right  and  justice  and 
love :  the  triumph  of  beauty  over  the  beast ;  the 
incoming  of  the  kingdom  of  God;  the  final  tri- 
umph of  the 'Son  of  man. 

4.  We  are  now  prepared  to  note  the  character- 
istics or  salient  features  of  Style,  Method,  Scope, 
and  Content,  by  which  the  "  Idylls "  are  best 
judged,  and  through  which  they  have  obtained 
that  place  in  English  letters  which  they  may  now 
be  said  to  hold. 

(a)  First  of  all,  the  diction  of  the  poem  is  note- 
worthy. Tennyson's  English  in  this  poem,  as 
elsewhere,  has  evoked  the  highest  eulogium  of  all 
literary  critics;  so  that  the  text  of  such  a  work 
would  form  a  good  basis  for  the  study  of  poetic 


Tennyson's  ''Idylls  of  the  King"         283 

usage,  and  reveal  the  wealth  of  the  English  lan- 
guage in  this  regard. 

We  may  view  the  subject  in  several  phases. 
There  is,  for  example,  a  pronounced  Old  English 
element  in  the  "  Idylls."  G.  C.  Macaulay,  in  his 
study  of  "  Gareth  and  Lynette,"  has  called  the  at- 
tention of  students  to  this,  remarking  that  the  poet, 
in  this  respect,  followed  Spenser  as  Spenser  fol- 
lowed Chaucer,  using  such  words  as  "  ruth  "  and 
"  clomb,"  "  bought,"  in  the  sense  of  "  fold,"  and 
"  worship,"  in  the  sense  of  "  honor,"  carrying  out, 
thus,  the  general  method  of  the  Elizabethan  writ- 
ers, as  indicated  by  Abbott  and  others.  The  use  of 
such  terms  as  "  increscent  "  and  "  decrescent  "  ex- 
hibits a  strict  etymological  sense.  The  simplicity 
and  strength  of  Tennyson's  English  are  thus 
among  its  notable  features,  seen  not  only  in  his 
preference  for  shorter  words  and  native  words,  but 
in  his  selection,  among  foreign  words  themselves, 
of  the  simplest  forms  and  those  most  akin  to  the 
vernacular.  So  manifest  is  this,  that  it  may  be 
clearly  confirmed  by  a  minute  examination  of  sep- 
arate idylls  and  sections  taken  almost  at  random. 
A  writer  in  the  Edinburgh  Reviezv  has  given  us 
the  results  of  such  an  examination  of  one  hundred 
lines  from  different  poems,  comparing  the  percent- 


284  Special  Discussions 

age  of  foreign,  and,  especially,  Latin  words,  with 
that  found  in  other  writers,  Shakespeare,  Milton, 
Byron,  and  Wordsworth.  The  result  is  reached, 
that  Tennyson  ranks  with  Chaucer  and  Shake- 
speare in  the  nativeness  of  his  diction,  secured,  on 
his  part,  by  a  definite  purpose  to  keep  within  the 
lines  of  his  own  speech,  and  thus  reveal  what 
could  be  done  therein.  Here  and  there,  it  is  true, 
there  is  noticeable  a  peculiar  usage  of  words, 
purely  Tennysonian,  of  words  obsolete  and  obso- 
lescent, or  of  words  and  phrases  in  special  senses. 
Thus,  the  word  "  spate,"  in  "  Gareth  and  Lyn- 
ette,"  meaning  "  flood-water,"  and  "  wit,"  in  the 
sense  of  "  knowledge."  Thus,  the  phrase  "  made 
it  spire  to  heaven,"  spoken  of  Merlin.  So,  in  the 
same  poem, 

"  Oilily  bubbled  up  the  mere." 

So,  in  the  scene  between  Tristram  and  Iseult,  it 
is  said: — ■ 

"  And  after  these  had  comforted  the  blood." 

In  these  and  similar  passages,  the  poet  insists, 
and  rightly,  that  the  departure  from  the  estab- 
lished usage  is  exceptional,  and  justified  on  the 
grounds  of  variety  and  poetic  interest.  He  is 
here  in  harmony   with  other  poets. 


Tennyson's  '^Idylls  of  the  King"        285 

The  alliteration  of  his  verse  is  apparent  on  every 

page;  so  much  so  that  it  would  appear  to  be  an 

essential    part    of   the   poet's    poetic    nature    and 

method,  often  carried,  it  must  be  conceded,  to  the 

extreme  of  studied  effort  and  mechanism.     Thus, 

in  "  Gareth  and  Lynette  " : — 

"And  tallest,  Gareth,  in  a  showerful  spring 
Stared  at  the  spate.     A  slender-shafted  pine 
Lost  footing,  fell,  and  so  was  whirled  away." 

Again,  in  "  Enid  " : — 

"  But  when  a  rumor  rose  about  the  Queen, 
Touching  her  guilty  love  for  Lancelot." 

So,  of  Arthur: — 

"There  on  a  day  he  sitting  high  in  hall, 
Before  him  came  a  forester  of  Dean, 
Wet  from  the  woods." 

So,  in  "  Elaine  "  :— 

"  Lightly,  her  suit  allowed,  she  slipt  away, 
And  while  she  made  her  ready  for  her  ride, 
Her  father's  latest  words  humm'd  in  her  ear." 

So  regular^  indeed,  is  the  alliteration,  that  a 
large  number  of  lines  may  be  chosen  in  which  the 
Old  English  formula  of  sub-letters  and  chief  let- 
ters is  exactly  carried  out;  as,  in  "Gareth  and 
Lynette  "  :— 

"  And  then,  when  turning  to  Lynette,  he  told 
The  tale  of  Gareth." 


286  Special  Discussions 

Tennyson's  compound  epithets  are,  also,  a  strik- 
ing feature  of  the  Diction,  special  attention  being 
called  by  van  Dyke  to  a  similarity  of  usage  here 
of  Tennyson  and  Milton.  Thus  we  note, 
"  autumn-dripping,"  "  tip-tilted,"  "  many-knolled," 
"  ruby-circled,"  "  gloomy-gladed,"  "  silver-misty," 
"  princely-proud,"  "  crag-carven,"  "  ever-higher- 
ing,"  "  tourney-falls,"  "  kitchen-knaves,"  "  life- 
bubbling,"'  "  wan-sallow/'  "  Lent-lily,"  "  co- 
twisted,"  and  so  on  —  a  feature  common  to  Ten- 
nyson and  Homer,  Spenser  and  Swinburne. 

In  fine,  the  diction,  as  the  style,  is  marked  by 
what  Swinburne  has  called  "  synthetic  perfect- 
tion,"  by  a  choice  selection  and  use  of  words,  by 
beauty  of  form  and  a  due  relation  of  sound  to 
sense,  by  the  specifically  artistic  or  architectural 
side  of  verse ;  so  that  all  is  resonant  and  rhythmic, 
pleasing  to  the  ear  and  taste  and  every  cultivated 
sense. 

(b)  Attention  should  be  called  to  the  dramatic 
element  in  the  Idylls.  The  poem  cannot  consis- 
tently be  said  to  be  a  drama,  as  Elsdale  has  termed 
it,  certainly  not  in  the  sense  in  which  "  Harold  " 
and  "  Queen  Mary "  are  such ;  but  it  has,  from 
first  to  last,  a  dramatic  cast  and  purpose,  with 
here  and  there  distinct  dramatic  passages.   Though 


Tennyson's  "  Idylls  of  the  King  "         287 

the  poem  is  not  presented  in  the  regular  form  of 
acts  and  scenes,  and  though  not  histrionic  in  its 
character,  it  has  definite  dramatic  and  scenic 
features. 

This  appears  especially  in  the  personages  and 
scenes  brought  vividly  to  view;  as,  Arthur, 
Lancelot  and  Guinevere,  the  three  leading  dra- 
matis personse,  to  v^hom  must  be  added  Enid, 
Elaine,  Vivien,  Tristram,  Pelleas,  Ettarre,  Gareth 
and  Lynette,  Bedivere,  Sir  Bevis  Isolt  and  Dag- 
met,  the  seneschal  and  the  sons,  Gawain  and 
Modred.  Here  we  have  characters  and  types  of 
character;  high  and  low,  innocent  and  crafty; 
playing  each  a  part,  and  together  contributing  to 
the  sum-total  of  the  effect  of  the  Play  as  a  vivid 
presentation  of  human  life. 

So,  as  to  Scenes ;  such  as  the  Coronation  Scene 
in  "  The  Coming  of  Arthur  " ;  the  Oriel  Scene,  in 
"  Elaine  " ;  the  Diamond  Scene  and  Castle  of  As- 
tolat;  the  Conferences  of  Guinevere  and  Lancelot, 
especially  the  last,  in  "  Guinevere " ;  the  Parting 
Scene  between  Arthur  and  Guinevere;  the  Ghost 
of  Gawain,  as  it  appears  to  Arthur  sleeping,  and 
calls  aloud ;  the  Battle  Scene,  in  "  The  Passing  of 
Arthur,"  and  so  on,  till  the  visions  disappear. 

In  these  and  other  respects,  there  is  here  seen 


288  Special  Discussions 

an  abundance  of  dramatic  material,  though  not 
in  dramatic  form,  the  poet's  limitations  being  thus 
evinced,  as  in  his  "  Promise  of  May  "  and  ''  The 
Cup  and  the  Falcon."  His  forte  was  not  here; 
and  yet  that  criticism  is  certainly  astray  which  in- 
sists that  we  have  in  the  "  Idylls  "  no  conspicu- 
ous dramatic  element. 

(c)  Another  marked  feature  of  the  Idylls  is 
seen  in  the  happy  combination  of  the  medieval  and 
the  modern,  the  old  and  the  new,  the  mythical  and 
the  real.  The  vexed  question  as  to  just  in  what 
sense  and  to  what  degree  the  "  Idylls "  may  be 
called  an  Allegory  need  not  detain  us.  Those 
critics  are  wrong  who  say  that  the  poem  is  vir- 
tually a  Parable,  or  that  it  is  in  all  its  parts  and 
meanings  allegorical.  This  element  is  undoubted- 
ly present,  and  the  skill  of  the  poet  lies  in  the 
fusion  of  the  symboHc  and  real  without  their  con- 
fusion. The  central  personage,  Arthur,  illustrates 
the  principle,  in  that  it  is  still  an  open  question 
among  critics  whether  he  was  a  real  Celtic  char- 
acter or  merely  a  symbol  of  heroism  and  virtue  in 
the  early  age.  That  old  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth 
believed  him  to  be  a  historic  personality  is  by  no 
means  sufficient  evidence;  while  in  him,  as  in 
the  other  characters,  we  feel,  as  we  read,  that  we 


Tennyson's  "Idylls   of  the  King"         289 

are  dealing  with  something  more  than  the  vision- 
ary and  phenomenal. 

This  skill  in  combination  is  especially  seen  in 
the  way  in  which  the  poet  puts  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  the  nineteenth  century  into  the  lan- 
guage of  the  sixth,  twelfth,  and  fourteenth  cen- 
turies. Romance  and  reality;  knights,  lords,  and 
ladies,  meet  and  interchange  ideas  with  the  mod- 
ern thinker.  The  literal  and  the  figurative  alter- 
nate, and  we  pass  without  a  warning  from  Faery 
Land  and  joust  and  tournament  to  Cheapside  and 
the  Strand  and  Temple  Bar. 

In  all  this  the  poet  has  subjected  himself,  as 
we  know,  to  severe  criticism,  and,  in  some  re- 
spects, justly,  as  being  guilty  of  anachronism,  and 
double-dealing  with  words;  and  yet  we  must  em- 
phasize the  fact,  that  such  combinations  in  their 
best  form  are  a  mark  of  poetic  genius,  and  in  the 
''  Idylls  "  are  presented  with  unwonted  skill. 

{d)  The  lyric  excellence  of  the  Idylls  should  be 
noted.  The  author  calls  the  earliest  portion  of  the 
poem,  "  Morte  d'Arthur,"  a  fragment  of  an  epic 
of  King  Arthur;  and  still  the  battle  rages  among 
the  critics,  as  to  whether  the  "  Idylls  "  constitute 
an  epic,  and,  if  so,  in  what  sense ;  whether  the  au- 
thor at  first  so  planned  the  poem,  or  whether  it 


290  Special  Discussions 

was  an  afterthought,  or  whether,  perchance,  the 
poem  unwittingly  assumed  an  epic  form.  When 
we  note  that  there  is  a  hero;  that  it  is  true,  as  has 
been  said,  "  that  no  language  has  surpassed  in  epic 
dignity  the  English  of  these  poems " ;  that  they 
have  "  epic  singleness  of  movement,"  and  are  "  an 
admirable  example  of  the  grand  style," — this  is 
not  to  say  that  the  poem  is  an  epic,  but  that  it  is 
epical,  as  it  is  dramatic,  having  the  heroic  tone 
and  quality  and  effect,  but  not  the  epic  type  and 
structure.  As  to  the  lyric  element^  however,  all 
doubt  disappears.  From  first  to  last,  this  is  a  dom- 
inant feature;  so  much  so,  that  a  volume  of  Eng- 
lish lyrics  might  be  gathered  from  these  twelve 
Idylls,  on  the  basis  of  which  lyric  vers^  might  be 
studied  both  as  an  inspiration  and  an  art.  Hence 
the  just  comparison  made  by  Stedman  between 
Tennyson  and  Theocritus ;  as,  also,  by  van  Dyke, 
between  Tennyson  and  Milton.  Hence  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  judgment,  that  the  "  Idylls "  are 
lyric,  rather  than  philosophic  or  creative,  full  of 
idyllic  and  descriptive  sweetness,  and  representing 
in  numerous  passages  the  highest  reach  of  poetic 
art  in  these  directions. 

The    "Idylls"    are   not    without    their     faults. 
From  their  first  appearance,  critics  have  not  been 


Tennyson's  ''Idylls  of  the  King"         291 

slow  to  note  them.  Taine  compares  Tennyson 
with  De  Musset,  to  the  advantage  of  the  latter. 
''  Mr.  Tennyson,"  writes  another,  "  has  no  sound 
pretensions  to  be  called  a  great  poet."  Swinburne 
takes  strong  exceptions,  at  many  points,  to  the 
"Idylls,"  the  "  Morte  d'Albert,"  as  he  calls  them, 
objecting  especially  to  Arthur  as  the  central  char- 
acter. Devey,  in  his  "  Modern  English  Poets," 
continues  the  adverse  comment;  while  Elsdale,  in 
his  "  Studies,"  devotes  a  chapter  to  the  anachron- 
isms in  the  "  Idylls,"  and  to  what  he  calls  their 
"  Drawbacks  and  Defects."  His  exceptions  are  all 
included  in  the  one  sweeping  comment,  that  they 
exhibit  lack  of  breadth,  accretion  rather  than 
growth.  He  insists  that  they  are  fragmentary; 
that  the  allegory  is  partial ;  that  the  characters  are 
inconsistent;  that  the  conception  of  character  is 
superficial,  and  that  episodes  and  digressions  mar 
the  unity  of  the  work. 

More  justly,  it  may  be  said,  the  great  defects 
of  the  poem  are  want  of  epic  and  dramatic  grasp 
and  of  profound  and  soul-moving  passion.  The 
defect  of  the  "  Idylls  "  is  the  signal  defect  of  Ten- 
nyson's poetic  work  as  a  whole,  "  In  Memoriam  " 
excepted, —  the  subordination  of  the  poet  to  the 
artist;     the     supremacy,     as     in     Macaulay     in 


292  Special  Discussions 

prose,  of  the  antithetic.  Just  as  Macaulay  did  not 
hesitate  to  modify  an  idea  in  order  to  construct 
an  antithesis,  so  Tennyson  often  modified  an  idea 
to  construct  an  alHteration  or  a  verbal  harmony. 
He  is  a  master  of  words  in  poetry,  a  literary  ar- 
chitect, and  herein  lies  the  open  question  of  his 
prospective  fame  as  transient  or  permanent.  No 
one  of  his  poems  represents  as  clearly  and  fully 
as  the  "  Idylls  "  his  merits  and  limitations.  It  is 
because  of  the  pronounced  character  of  the  latter 
that  the  "  Idylls "  must  give  place  to  "  In  Me- 
moriam,"  while  it  is  because  of  the  pronounced 
character  of  the  former  that  the  "  Idylls "  must 
be  called  his  second  great  poem.  An  able  critic 
is  not  far  astray  when  he  writes,  "  that  the  mind 
of  Tennyson  is  of  a  somewhat  feminine  type."  It 
is  not  possessed  of  masculinity  in  the  sense  of 
original  force  and  scope.  Henc^,  the  superiority 
of  his  female  characters,  and,  hence,  the  prominent 
excellence  of  the  more  subdued  qualities  of  literary 
style,  such  as  grace,  finish,  symmetry,  propriety, 
charm  of  word  and  manner,  and  general  sesthetic 
attraction. 

Tennyson  is  a  gracious  presence  in  literature, 
but  not  a  force,  as  Goethe,  Milton,  and  Emerson 
are   forces.     His   gifts   are  rare,  but  not  plenary 


Tennyson's  ''Idylls  of  the  King''        293 

and  potent.  His  passion  is  pure,  but  not  pro- 
found and  elemental,  nor  the  effect  of  his  work 
upon  us  reorganizing  and  irresistible. 

We  reverted,  at  the  outset,  to  the  propriety  of 
his  use  of  the  word  "  idylls,"  and  herein  the  poet 
made  a  safe  estimate  of  his  own  gift  and  range. 

Odes  and  sonnets,  ballads,  elegies,  and  idylls 
are  the  staple  of  his  art,  and  mark  his  scope. 
When  we  speak  of  "  The  Princess  "  as  an  epic, 
and  of  "  Harold "  as  a  drama,  it  is  by  way  of 
verbal  accommodation,  and  in  deference  to  the 
general  merits  of  the  author. 

It  is,  indeed,  Tennyson's  "  In  Memoriam  "  that 
has  made  it  possible  to  assign  him  to  a  higher 
rank  than  any  of  his  other  poems  would  justify. 
This  poem  is,  in  every  sense,  great,  and  marks  the 
master;  so  great,  indeed,  in  connection  with  the 
"  Idylls,"  as  to  give  a  higher  place  to  all  his  work 
and,  despite  his  faults  of  mind  and  art,  make  it 
possible  to  assign  him  among  England's  Immor- 
tals in  the  field  of  letters. 

As  the  years  go  on,  his  name  and  fame  are 
widening;  so  that,  whatever  may  be  the  special 
estimate  of  his  genius  or  his  work,  as  compared 
with  that  of  his  contemporaries,  he  may  be  said 
to  be  the  most  unique,    conspicuous,    and   indis- 


294:  special  Discussions 

pensable  poet  of  the  Victorian  Age.  To  have  writ- 
ten "In  Memoriam"  and  "Idylls  of  the  King " 
is  enough  to  make  an  author  permanently  famous. 
There  is,  therefore,  a  high  sense  in  which,  in  view 
of  modern  poetic  tendencies,  we  may  say  of  Ten- 
nyson as  Wordsworth  sang  of  Milton: — 

"Thou   shouldst   be  living   at  this  hour. 
England  hath  need  of  thee." 


VII 


TENNYSON'S  "IN  MEMORIAM" 

There  are  few  readers  of  Tennyson  who,  if 
compelled  to  select  one  of  his  poems  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  all  others,  would  not  choose  the  "  In 
Memoriam  "  as  the  most  representative  single  pro- 
duction. Whatever  praise  may  rightfully  be  ac- 
corded to  the  "  Idylls  of  the  King,"  to  "  Maud," 
to  "  The  Princess,"  or  to  "  Becket "  as  the  best 
of  his  dramas,  this  magnificent  threnody  is  so 
comprehensive  and  vital,  so  full  of  mind  and  soul 
and  art  and  suggestion,  that  it  stands  alone,  and 
unapproachably  alone,  among  the  poems  of  the 
author  and  among  those  of  any  of  his  contem- 
poraries. 

It  is,  in  fact,  a  poem  so  much  greater  than  the 
theme  of  it,  or  the  sad  event  that  suggested  and 
inspired  it,  that  there  is  almost  an  incongruity  in 
the  contrast,  and  the  wonder  increases,  upon  every 
renewed  reading  of  it,  that  such  a  work  of  thought 
and  feeling  could  have  been  based  upon  a  foun- 
dation so  limited  and  local.  Our  purpose  in  the 
295 


296  Special  Discussions 

study  of  this  poem  will  best  be  subserved  by 
noting,  with  some  degree  of  regularity,  the  vari- 
ous topics  of  interest  that  arise  as  we  peruse  and 
examine  it. 

1.  As  to  its  occasion.  This  is  a  matter  of  his- 
torical fact,  and  is  found,  as  we  know,  in  the  death 
of  Arthur  Henry  Hallam,  the  poet's  college  com- 
panion and  intimate  personal  friend.  His  death  at 
Vienna,  September  15,  1833,  marks  the  actual  or- 
igin as  well  as  the  occasion  of  the  poem,  inasmuch 
as  it  was  in  this  year  that  Tennyson  began  its  com- 
position, not  completing  it  fully  until  seventeen 
years  after,  the  year  1850,  the  middle  year  of  the 
century,  and  the  forty-first  of  the  author's  long 
and  illustrious  career.  It  is  thus  that  he  calls  it 
an  Elegy,  while  it  is  also  a  Eulogy,  as  he  re- 
iterates and  impresses  the  varied  virtues  of  his 
beloved  Arthur;  taking  occasion,  thereby,  to  exalt 
the  personal  qualities  of  all  true  characters  in 
every  age  and  clime.  As  already  suggested,  such 
an  event  as  this,  the  untimely  death  of  a  college 
friend,  would  scarcely  seem  a  fitting  theme  for 
so  elaborate  a  production,  and  seems  like  magnify- 
ing one  of  the  most  ordinary  incidents  of  our 
every-day  life  into  a  place  of  undeserved  promi- 
nence;   and   yet   the   poet   deals   with   the    theme, 


Tennyson's  "  In   Memoriam  "  297 

both  in  its  local  and  universal  character,  as  a  spe- 
cific event  of  sorrow  in  his  personal  history  as  a 
man,  and,  also,  as  a  general  event  of  historic  char- 
acter in  the  developing  history  of  men.  The  death 
of  the  gifted  Hallam  is  thus  but  the  text  of  a 
broad  and  thoroughly  elaborated  system  of  truth 
—  a  fact  in  life  and  providence  and  human  history 
awakening  attention  to  a  thousand  other  related 
and  wider-reaching  facts  —  a  germinal  idea  or 
principle  whose  prolific  fruitage  is  as  undying  as 
it  is  abundant. 

Just  as  the  "  Idylls  of  the  King "  grew  from 
small  beginnings  to  spacious  proportions  as  a 
poem  of  epic  range,  so  did  the  death  of  Hallam 
occasion  the  author's  greatest  poem ;  the  most 
notable  elegy  of  the  English  tongue  or  of  mod- 
ern literature,  and  one  of  the  representative  poems 
of  the  literary  world. 

2.  As  to  its  structure,  we  note  that  it  is  made 
up  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  sections,  exclusive 
of  the  Prologue  and  Epilogue,  containing  in  all 
seven  hundred  and  twenty-four  stanzas,  of  the  pe- 
culiar Tennysonian  order,  the  quatrain,  with  its 
rhyme  of  the  first  and  fourth  lines,  and  of  the 
second  and  third. 

Throughout  the  poetry  of  Tennyson,  various  or- 


298  Special  Discussions 

ders  of  verse  are  found  —  blank  verse,  as  in  his 
"  Harold,"  and  other  dramas,  in  the  "  Idylls  of  the 
King,"  and  "  Enoch  Arden,"  "  The  Princess,"  and 
others  of  the  longer  poems;  the  couplet,  as  in 
^'The  May  Queen"  and  "  Locksley  Hall";  the 
three-line  stanza,  as  in  "  The  Two  Voices  " ;  the 
quatrain,  as  in  "  The  Palace  of  Art,"  "  The  Talking 
Oak  " ;  the  six-line  stanza,  as  in  "  The  Sisters  " ; 
the  seven-line  stanza,  as  in  "  Fatima  " ;  the  eight- 
line  stanza,  as  in  "  The  Miller's  Daughter " ;  the 
twelve-line  stanza,  as  in  "  Mariana " ;  while  in  so 
short  a  poem  as  "  Eleanore "  the  stanzas  vary 
from  the  minimum  of  nine  lines  to  the  maximum 
of  twenty-four  lines,  in  which  a  large  variety  of 
combinations  is  expressed. 

The  pecuHar  quatrain  of  "  In  Memoriam," 
however,  is  Tennyson's  own,  as  much  as  the 
Spenserian  stanza  of  "  The  Faerie  Queene "  is 
Spenser's,  used  here  by  him  in  its  best  form  and 
made  by  its  use  an  historic  English  stanza. 

Here  and  there,  outside  of  "  In  Memoriam," 
Tennyson  employs  it,  as  in  his  significant  lines  to 
the  Queen,  in  1851 : — 

"  Revered,   beloved  —  O  you   that  hold 
A  nobler  office  upon  earth 
Than  arms,  or  power  of  brain  or  birth 
Could  give  the  warrior  kings  of  old, 


Tennyson's  "  In   Memoriam  "  299 

"  Victoria,  —  since  your  Royal  grace 
To  one  of  less  desert  allows 
This  laurel  greener  from  the  brows 
Of  him  that  uttered  nothing  base." 

So,  in  the  poems  entitled  ''  The  Blackbird "  and 
"  To  J.  S.,"  written  in  the  earlier  years,  and 
others. 

Further,  as  to  structure,  it  may  be  stated,  that 
critics  and  commentators  have  gone  to  the  ex- 
treme either  of  denying  any  unity  of  plan  in  the 
poem,  or  to  that  of  reducing  it  to  a  close  and 
technical,  logical  analysis,  as  if  it  had  been  so 
divided   according   to   the   canons   of  the   schools. 

Professor  Genung,  in  his  interesting  study  of 
the  poem,  falls  into  the  latter  extreme,  and  gives 
us  an  elaborate  plan  of  Prologue,  First,  Second, 
and  Third  Cycles,  and  Epilogue,  stating  the  spe- 
cific stanzas  that  belong,  as  he  thinks,  to  the  re- 
spective divisions.  In  fact,  more  than  one-half  of 
his  book  is  taken  up  with  the  statement  and  at- 
tempted proof  of  his  theory,  so  that,  in  not  a 
few  instances,  he  is  compelled  to  adopt  forced 
analyses  in  order  to  reach  such  a  result.  He  even 
goes  so  far  as  to  suggest,  that  the  poet  gives  us 
in  the  poem  the  hint  of  his  own  plan  that  we  are 
to  discover  and  unfold.  This,  to  our  mind,  is  not 
only  impossible   to  find,  but  undesirable. 


300  Special  Discussions 

In  order  to  the  fullest  enjoyment  and  under- 
standing of  the  poem,  as  well  as  to  the  fullest 
expression  of  its  poetical  character,  all  that  is 
needed  is,  to  bear  in  mind  its  definite  occasion,  its 
general  order  of  thought  and  form,  and  the 
double  purpose,  specific  and  general,  which  it  is 
intended  to  subserve. 

In  fact^  even  the  general  method  of  it  is  often 
at  fault,  if  we  press  closely  the  claims  of  logical 
rule,  in  that  topics  once  treated  are  reintroduced, 
and  in  that  additional  stanzas  were  composed 
after  the  poem  had  been  subsequently  written. 
This  afterthought  could  not  have  been  in  the 
original  plan,  so  called,  while  the  manner  in  which 
such  stanzas  adjust  themselves  to  the  general  ob- 
ject of  it  shows  that  any  such  principle  as  a  logical 
nexus  was  absent,  and  that  the  author  wrote  what 
he  wrote  on  a  comprehensive  and  flexible  method. 

In  this  respect,  the  poem  is  in  keeping  with 
the  "  Idylls  of  the  King,"  the  parts  of  which  were 
composed  at  different  periods,  and  to  the  latest 
critics  still  present  the  open  question  as  to  how 
little  and  how  much  sequence  and  logical  connec- 
tion exists,  and  as  to  just  what  the  author's  plan 
and  aim  may  be  said  to  have  been.  The  poet  him- 
self   never    saw    fit    to    solve    these    questionings, 


Tennyson's   "In   Memoriam"  301 

which  in  itself  is  but  an  additional  proof  that  he 
preferred  to  leave  the  matter  of  method  to  itself. 

The  actual  content  or  subject-matter  of  the 
poem  is  the  best  answer  as  to  what  it  is  and  what 
it  is  designed  to  teach. 

3.  If  we  thus  inquire  as  to  the  purpose  of  the 
poem,  the  best  general  answer  is,  that  it  is  an  at- 
tempt to  state  and  solve  the  problem  of  life  —  as 
life  is  inseparably  connected  with  death  and  des- 
tiny and  immortality.  Professor  Genung  prefers 
to  state  it  in  the  form  of  a  proposition,  "  Love 
is  Intrinsically  Immortal."  This  he  calls  the 
'*  fundamental  idea "  of  the  poem,  as  expressed 
in  the  first  stanza, 

"  Strong  Son  of  God,  immortal  Love, 

Whom  we,  that  have  not  seen  thy  face, 
By  faith,  and  faith  alone,  embrace, 
Believing  where  we  cannot  prove." 

We  revert,  however,  to  the  purpose  stated  —  the 
attempt  to  examine  and  solve  the  problem  of  life, 
as  it  presented  itself  to  the  poet's  mind.  This  in- 
cludes the  doctrine  of  Immortal  Love  and  others 
equally  and  more  important, —  those  of  man's 
origin  and  history  and  destiny;  his  hopes  and 
fears;  his  joys  and  sorrows  and  struggles;  his 
victories    and    reverses;    his    successes   and   disap- 


302  Special  Discussions 

pointments;  his  relation  to  God  and  the  world  and 
the  eternal  life  beyond. 

It  is  here  that  the  poem  sweeps  out  beyond  the 
local  and  temporal  into  the  immensities  and  infini- 
ties, and  embraces,  as  Dante's  ''  Divina  Com- 
media,"   the  confines   of   heaven,   earth,   and   hell. 

The  poem  is  thus  essentially  inquisitive  and  in- 
terrogative. It  investigates  phenomena,  scientific 
and  religious,  if  so  be  it  may  come  at  length  to 
the  disclosure  of  the  hidden  truth,  the  resolution 
of  the  complex  problem,  the  successful  finding  of 
the  way.  The  question  of  Pilate  to  Christ  is  the 
question  of  the  poet  —  What  is  Truth?  only  asked 
and  presented  in  the  reverential  spirit  and,  there- 
fore, with  the  promise  of  an  approximate  solution. 
In  the  course  of  this  inquiry,  manifold  questions 
and  teachings  arise  —  as  to  the  transientness  of  all 
things  human ;  as  to  the  folly  of  ambition  and 
worldly  preferment;  as  to  the  depressing  effects 
of  sorrow,  and  the  mission  of  the  divine  discipline ; 
as  to  the  blessedness  of  friendship,  and  the  moral 
relation  of  the  present  to  the  future.  It  is,  in  fine, 
"  this  search  for  reality  "  that  constitutes  the  pur- 
pose as  well  as  the  inestimable  value  of  the  Elegy 
—  an  earnest,  and  often  an  intensely  passionate, 
attempt  to  reach  foundations,  and  mark  the  lim- 


Tennyson's  "  In  Memoriam  "  303 

its  of  truth  and  things ;  to  discover  certainty  amid 
ceaseless  change,  and  "  justify  the  ways  of  God 
to  man."  "  In  Memoriam  "  is  Tennyson's  Essay 
on  Man,  with  a  deeper  meaning  and  a  wider  pur- 
pose than  belonged  to  the  poem  of  Pope,  and  a 
representation  of  Victorian  England  as  that  was 
of  Augustan. 

4.  This  last  statement  naturally  calls  to  mind 
the  relation  of  "  In  Memoriam "  to  the  age  in 
which  it  was  produced.  Stedman  speaks  of  it  as 
"  an  eminently  British  poem,  in  scenery,  imagery, 
and  general  treatment."  In  this  sense,  it  is  nation- 
al as  well  as  universal.  More  specifically,  it  is  a 
poem  of  nineteenth-century  England,  as  distinct 
from  any  preceding  period,  as  much  so  as  Chau- 
cer's "  Canterbury  Tales  "  was  a  picture  of  four- 
teenth-century England,  or  Addison's  Spectator 
that  of  the  Age  of  Anne.  There  is  a  sense,  more- 
over, in  which  all  antecedent  English  thought  and 
life,  from  the  days  of  Elizabeth  to  Victoria,  had 
accumulated  and  expressed  itself  in  this  closing 
century,  the  individual  life  of  the  century  itself 
being  added  thereto,  and  being,  as  the  latest  fac- 
tor, the  most  impressive  and  vital.  It  was  in  1809, 
just  as  the  century  had  fairly  opened,  that  Tenny- 
son was  born.     Beginning  his  great  Elegy  in  the 


304  Special  Discussions 

third  decade^  its  completion  is  coterminous  with 
the  close  of  the  first  half  of  the  century,  and  may 
be  said,  in  time  and  character,  to  mark  the  high 
tide  of  the  nation's  thought  and  life.  It  was  a 
time  when  scientific  research,  after  the  modern 
method,  was  taking  on  its  positive  and  pronounced 
forms.  Metaphysicians  and  theologians,  stimu- 
lated by  Continental  thinkers,  were  speculating,  as 
never  before  in  England,  on  the  great  questions 
of  philosophy  and  ethics.  English  politics  and  the 
English  church  were  alike   stirred  to  the  center. 

It  was  now,  as  historians  have  been  quick  to 
note,  that  such  representative  men  as  Dr.  Arnold 
and  Frederic  Robertson,  Maurice  and  Newman, 
and  the  leading  exponents  of  the  great  Oxford 
movement  were  agitating,  in  their  own  way,  the 
fundamental  questions  of  state  and  church  and 
human  life.  The  great  English  writers  of  the 
time  in  Fiction,  Miscellany,  History,  and  Sociol- 
ogy were  doing  phenomenal  work,  while  Thack- 
eray and  Carlyle  protested  against  the  imposing 
frauds  of  the  era,  whatever  their  guise  or  name 
or  sanctions. 

As  Matthew  Arnold  and  Browning,  so  Tenny- 
son, aimed  to  reach  and  disclose  the  deepest  in- 
stincts of  the  age,  and  thus  to  make  his  poem  but 


Tennyson's  "  In   Memoriam  "  305 

a  reflex  of  his  nation's  thought.  There  is  a  sense, 
therefore,  in  .which,  as  we  read  this  Elegy,  we 
seem  to  see  the  faces  of  Keats  and  Shelley,  Cole- 
ridge and  Wordsworth,  Southey  and  Scott,  Morris 
and  Clough,  and  all  the  cardinal  characteristics  of 
the  period.  It  was  Tennyson's  aim  and  high  vo- 
cation to  gather  up  and  express  in  verse,  as  he 
only  could  do  it,  the  prevailing  ideas  and  feelings 
of  these  epoch-making  minds,  and  with  them  all 
to  express  his  own  profoundest  self.  It  is  thus 
historically  as  well  as  poetically  just  to  answer  the 
question  propounded,  as  to  whether  or  not  Tenny- 
son is  a  great  poet,  in  the  words  in  which  a  recent 
American  critic  has  answered  it,  by  saying,  "  That 
will  depend  on  whether  you  think  the  nineteenth 
century  is  a  great  century,  for  he  is  the  clearest, 
sweetest,  and  strongest  voice  of  the  century." 

So  true  is  this  that  Tennyson,  in  so  far  as  we 
can  see,  would  have  been  a  poet  out  of  place  in 
the  Augustan,  and  even  in  the  Elizabethan  Age, 
and,  if,  indeed,  out  of  his  own  epoch  far  more  at 
home  in  the  ever-developing  civilization  of  the 
twentieth  century  than  in  the  conservative  history 
of  the  eighteenth.  In  his  second  "  Locksley  Hall," 
as  in  the  "  In  Memoriam,"  his  eye  often  peers  be- 


306  Special  Discussions 

yond  the  limits  of  the  present  age,  and  looks  far 
on   into  the  century  just  at  hand. 

5.  As  to  the  relation  of  "  In  Memoriam  "  to 
other  poems,  something  may  be  said.  If  the  ques- 
tion of  time  of  composition  is  taken  into  account, 
we  note,  that,  the  poems  published  before  1833 
apart,  the  first  collection  closely  connected  with  the 
Elegy  was  that  published  in  1842  under  the  title 
"  Poems  by  A.  Tennyson,"  in  which  such  pro- 
nounced examples  as  "  Ulysses,"  ''  Locksley  Hall," 
"The  Two  Voices,"  and  "  Morte  d'Arthur "  ap- 
peared. Then  followed,  previous  to  1850,  "  The 
Princess  "  in  1847,  it  being  noticeable  that,  in  1850, 
the  year  of  the  publication  of  "  In  Memoriam," 
there  occurred  the  marriage  of  the  poet  to  Miss 
Sellwood,  and  his  appointment,  as  the  successor  of 
Wordsworth,  to  the  English  Poet  Laureateship, 
which  he  held  to  the  day  of  his  death,  in  1892. 
The  year  1850  thus  marks  the  completion  of  the 
first  half  of  his  life,  the  second  half  being  co- 
terminous with  the  possession  of  the  Laureateship. 

It  is  natural  to  infer,  therefore,  that  many  of 
these  antecedent  poems,  between  1833  and  1850, 
were  more  or  less  preparative  to  this  one  consum- 
mate work,  as  Chaucer's  "  Canterbury  Tales " 
shows  the  preparative  influence  of  his  earlier  work. 


Tennyson's  ''  In  Memoriam  "  307 

Especially  is  this  presumable  in  reference  to  the 
poems  of  1842 ;  "  The  Two  Voices  "  being,  per- 
haps, as  significant  as  any  in  this  historic  and  lit- 
erary sequence. 

The  opening  three-line  stanza  indicates  its 
character : 

"A  still  small  voice  spake  unto  me, 
'Thou  art  so  full  of  misery, 
Were  it  not  better  not  to  be? ' " 

So,  the  sixth, 

"  I  said,  *  When  first  the  world  began, 
Young  Nature  thro'  five  cycles  ran, 
And  in  the  sixth  she  moulded  man.'  " 

So,  later, 

"And  men,  thro'  novel  spheres  of  thought 
Still  moving  after  truth  long  sought, 
Will  learn  new  things  when  I  am  not." 

So,  on  through  the  poem,  we  are  reminded  of  the 
reflective  lines  of  the  Elegy  seeking  after  the  light 
and  the  truth  and  the  solution  of  the  pressing 
problems  of  time  and  eternity. 

If  this  relation  of  the  Elegy  to  Tennyson's  other 
work,  preceding  and  subsequent,  be  examined 
apart  from  the  principle  of  time,  and  mainly  with 
reference  to  those  poems   that  breathe   the   same 


308  Special  Discussions 

spirit  and  seek  the  same  ends,  the  subject  will  as- 
sume a  wider  and  fuller  form. 

Referring,  at  this  point,  to  van  Dyke's  sixfold 
classification  of  Tennyson's  poems,  (1)  Melodies 
and  Pictures;  (2)  Stories  and  Portraits,  including 
Ballads,  Idylls,  and  Character-Pieces;  (3)  Epics; 
(4)  Dramas;  (5)  Patriotic  and  Personal  Poems; 
(6)  Poems  of  the  Inner  Life,  including  those  of 
Art,  Life,  Love,  Death,  Doubt  and  Faith, — 
this  last  division,  "  Poems  of  the  Inner  Life," 
would  almost,  without  exception,  indicate  the  line 
of  thought  in  the  Elegy,  particularly  those  dealing 
with  Doubt  and  Faith,  such  as,  "  The  Higher 
Pantheism,"  "  Vastness,"  "  De  Profundis,"  and 
"  Crossing  the  Bar  " ;  while  others,  such  as  "  The 
Vision  of  Sin,"  "  My  Life  is  full  of  Weary  Days," 
''  Love  and  Death,"  suggest  the  same  great  truths 
and  questions.  So,  in  each  of  the  other  five  cat- 
egories, pertinent  examples  may  be  found;  as  in 
"  Nothing  will  Die,"  "  All  Things  will  Die,"  "  The 
Death  of  the  Old  Year,"  "A  Farewell,"  "A 
Dirge,"  "Ode  to  Memory,"  "Far,  Far  Away," 
"The  Golden  Year,"  "Despair,"  and  the  two 
Locksley  Halls. 

It  is  thus  that  "  In  Memoriam  "  may  be  seen  to 
stand  as  a  poem  midway  in  the  author's  work,  as 


Tennyson's  "  In  Memoriam  "  309 

midway  in  his  life,  looking  before  and  after,  ex- 
pressing in  most  fitting  form  what  had  been  and 
what  was  yet  to  be  expressed,  though  in  less  ef- 
fective manner,  and  thus  concentrating  in  one  su- 
preme effort  all  the  best  qualities  and  tendencies 
of  the  author's  genius. 

It  is  for  this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  that  it  may 
be  called  the  poet's  most  representative  work,  as  it 
is  his  richest  and  greatest  —  the  one  that  could 
least  be  spared  from  the  large  volume  of  verse 
which  he  has  written.  The  relation  of  "  In 
Memoriam  "  to  "  Paradise  Lost,"  as  of  Tennyson 
to  Milton,  is  a  difficult  question  and  has  been  fully 
discussed  by  an  acute  American   critic. 

6.  We  may  now  turn  to  one  or  two  of  the 
more  specific  characteristics  and  qualities  of  this 
poem. 

And,  first,  as  to  its  poetic  form  or  type.  The 
author  has  distinctly  called  it  an  Elegy,  while  the 
nature  of  the  theme,  as  well  as  that  of  the  method, 
sentiment,  and  purpose,  would  so  indicate.  Thus, 
critics,  such  as  Genung  and  Davidson,  have  sought 
to  establish  close  parallelisms  between  it  and 
other  English  elegies,  notably,  Milton's  "  Lycidas  " 
and  Shelley's  "  Adonais,"  and  the  autobiographical 
sonnets    of    Shakespeare.     In     so    far    as    each 


310  Special  Discussions 

is  an  elegy,  "  In  Memoriam,"  "  Lycidas,"  and 
"  Adonais  " ;  in  so  far  as  each  refers  to  the  loss, 
on  the  author's  part,  of  a  beloved  personal  friend, 
of  Hallam  and  Edward  King  and  Keats,  the  com- 
parison may  be  said  to  hold;  while  the  Sonnets  of 
the  great  dramatist  also  point  to  his  sincere  affec- 
tion for  some  unnamed  friend.  Here,  however, 
is  the  limit  of  the  resemblance,  while  in  compre- 
hensiveness of  plan,  in  imaginative  outlook,  in 
range  of  power,  and  intrinsic  poetic  quality,  the 
Laureate's  dirge  is  so  incomparably  superior  to 
any  other  elegy  of  our  language  that  any  attempt 
to  institute  extended  likeness  is  as  invidious  as  it 
is  impracticable.  Emerson's  "  Threnody  "  over  the 
loss  of  his  son,  or  his  "  In  Memoriam  "  over  the 
loss  of  his.  brother,  or  Arnold's  lament  of  Clough 
in  his  "  Thyrsis  "  are  suggestive  and  beautiful  po- 
ems, but  can  with  no  more  justice  be  brought  into 
favorable  comparison  with  the  Elegy  upon  Hallam 
than  can  Tennyson's  "  Harold,"  or  "  Queen 
Mary  "  be  closely  compared  with  "  Julius  Caesar  " 
or  "  Richard  III." 

It  may  be  noted,  further,  as  to  Form,  that  "  In 
Memoriam,"  being  specifically  elegiac,  is  essential- 
ly a  lyric,  and  would  thus  take  its  place  among  the 
poems    of    the    author's    first    collection    of    1830, 


Tennyson's  "In  Memoriam"  311 

"  Poems,  Chiefly  Lyrical."  Devoid  of  anything  like 
a  distinctive  dramatic  type,  it  has  not  enough  of 
the  epic  or  heroic  element  to  modify  its  general 
lyric  character,  while  the  nature  of  the  theme  and 
the  prevalence  of  deep  emotion  would  constitute 
it  of  the  lyric  order. 

The  external  form  of  "  In  Memoriam "  apart, 
its  most  striking  feature  is  its  masterly  combina- 
tion of  the  intellectual  and  artistic,  so  that  each 
is  expressed  in  appropriate  measure  and  manner, 
and  each  is  made  to  contribute  to  the  highest  ex- 
cellence of  the  other.  It  is  questionable  whether 
such  a  fusion  is  so  fully  effected  in  any  other 
English  poem  —  certainly  not  in  "  Paradise  Lost," 
nor  in  Pope's  "  Essay  on  Man,"  nor  in  Brown- 
ing's "  Ring  and  the  Book,"  nor  in  Longfellow's 
"  Evangeline."  In  each  of  these,  one  characteristic, 
the  mental  or  artistic^  is  conspicuously  prominent 
over  the  other,  nor  would  it  be  aside  from  the 
truth  to  suggest,  that  the  author's  "  Idylls  of  the 
King "  is  the  closest  approximation  to  his  own 
ideal  established  in  the  Elegy. 

What  Dowden  calls  the  "  mind  and  art "  of 
Shakespeare  is  here  seen  in  Tennyson.  When 
Bagehot  speaks  of  the  "  ornate  art  "  of  Tennyson, 
intimating  that  it  is  lacking  in  the  mental  quality, 


312  Special  Discussions 

and  is  ornate  only,  however  just  the  criticism  may 
be  as  appHed  to  other  poems,  it  has  no  vaHd  illus- 
tration in  the  Elegy.  Here  there  is  seen  artistic 
unity,  the  unity  of  art  and  nature;  of  idea  and 
form;  of  thought  and  feeling  and  taste;  in  such  a 
masterly  manner  that  we  view  them  as  one  and 
the  same  thing  in  the  sum-total  of  the  effect  that 
the  poem  has  upon  us. 

In  other  words,  "  In  Memoriam  "  represents  the 
union  of  poetry  and  phijosophy,  and  in  a  way 
superior  to  that  of  any  of  its  poetic  contempo- 
raries. Herein  lies  one  of  the  author's  chief  claims 
to  a  precedence  over  Robert  Browning,  in  that 
where  Browning  deals  with  the  intellectual  only, 
Tennyson  has  presented  the  intellectual  in  vital 
union  with  the  aesthetic. 

It  is  one  of  the  impressions  ever  deepening  as 

we  read  "  In  Memoriam/'  that  we  are  reading  an 

author  who  is  a  master  of  thought  and  imagination 

as  well  as  of  words  and  meters,  and  the  question 

starts  ever  anew,  as  we  read  a  stanza,  which  is  the 

greater,  the  depth  and  reach  of  its  ideas,  or  the 

exquisite  finish   of  its   construction.     We   read: — 

"  Our  little  systems  have  their  day ; 

They  have  their  day  and  cease  to  be; 
They  are  but  broken  lights  of  thee, 
And  thou,  O  Lord,  art  more  than  they." 


Tennyson's   "  In   Memoriam  "  313 

"  1  held  it  truth  with  him  who  sings 
To  one  clear  harp  in  divers  tones, 
That  men  may  rise  on  stepping-stones 
Of  ttieir  dead  selves  to  higher  things  " ; 

and,  as  we  read,  we  are  instructed  and  enchanted, 
for  we  have  found  a  thinker  and  a  bard  in  one, 
and,  in  so  far  as  "  In  Memoriam  "  is  concerned, 
the  thinker  is  always  present.  We  may  allude 
here  to  a  possible  and  tenable  criticism  of  Tenny- 
son in  the  love  of  art  for  art's  sake,  in  the  undue 
emphasis  of  the  elaborative  and  decorative,  but  the 
criticism  does  not  hold  in  the  poem  with  which 
we  are  dealing,  nor,  we  may  add,  does  it  hold  to 
any  marked  degree  in  the  longer  poems,  but  chiefly 
in  the  shorter  miscellaneous  lyrics,  as  in  "  Lilian  " 
and  "  Madeline "  and  "  The  Ballad  of  Oriana " 
and  odes  and  songs. 

Mention  has  been  made,  in  speaking  of  the 
subject-matter  of  "  In  Memoriam,"  that  it  deals 
with  the  most  vital  and  profound  problems  of  the 
day,  and,  in  doing  this,  it  is  necessarily  a  thought- 
ful and  a  philosophic  poem.  It  could  not  be  other 
and  be  successful.  The  seventeen  years  spent  in 
its  preparation  would  indicate  this.  The  evident 
manner  of  the  poet  as  sedate  and  serious  indicates 
it.     He  had  written  snatches  of  song  and  lighter 


314  Special  Discussions 

lyrics  and  playful  verses  on  life  and  love  — 
"  Claribel  "  and  "  Isabel,"  "  The  Sea-Fairies  "  and 
"The  Mermaid,"  "The  Miller's  Daughter"  and 
"  The  May  Queen,"  "  The  Day  Dream  "  and  "  The 
Beggar  Maid  " ;  but  now  every  faculty  was  at  its 
fullest,  every  sober  purpose  was  in  exercise, 
imagination  stirred  to  its  sublimest  function,  and 
the  poet's  whole  nature  was  lifted  in  Miltonic  man- 
ner "  to  the  height  of  his  great  argument."  As  a 
result,  we  have  a  poem  instinct  with  thought  and 
life  and  lofty  ideals,  and  developed  with  all  the 
grace  and  charm  of  poetic  art, —  a  philosophy  of 
man  in  finished  verse, —  a  presentation  of  idea  and 
expression  thoroughly  unique  and  Tennysonian, 
and  evincing  to  all  less  gifted  souls  what  the  pos- 
sibilities of  poetry  are  and  how  a  genius  in  song 
may  think  aloud  in  verse.  The  relation  of  the 
poem  to  man  is  one  of  the  additional  features  of 
"  In  Memoriam."  This  indeed  is  a  characteristic 
of  Tennyson's  poetry  as  a  whole,  as  clearly  evinced 
in  the  first  collection  which  he  pubHshed  with  his 
brother  in  1826,  as  in  "  Demeter  and  Other  Po- 
ems," published  in  1889. 

This,  apart,  however,  there  are  some  of  his 
poems  that  evince  this  personality  more  fully  than 
others;  such  as,   "The  Idylls,"  "Enoch    Arden," 


Tennyson's   ''In  Memoriam"  315 

"  Maud,"  "  Dora,"  "  A  Dream  of  Fair  Women/* 
"  Godiva,"  and  many  of  those  Character-Pieces 
and  Poems  on  Love  and  Doubt  and  Destiny  to 
which  attention  has  been  called. 

"  In  Memoriam "  however,  stands  out,  to  our 
mind,  conspicuously  prominent  over  all  others  in 
this  respect.  It  is  the  most  representative  poem  of 
the  author,  as  it  is  of  the  age,  more  Tennysonian 
than  any  other,  and  one  which  an  unprejudiced 
reader  would  most  naturally  select  as  Tennyson's, 
rather  than  Browning's  or  Swinburne's  or  even 
Matthew  Arnold's.  Mr.  Howells  has  spoken  of  a 
feature  which  he  terms  "  Tennysonianism."  It  is 
this  which  is  here  so  visible  that  no  one  can  mis- 
take it;  seen,  partly,  in  the  external  structure  and 
character  of  the  poem,  in  stanza  and  rhythm  and 
artistic  beauty,  but,  more  manifestly,  in  the  in- 
trinsic qualities  of  it,  in  its  underlying  sentiments, 
thoughts  and  ideals,  and  what  may  be  called  the 
genius  of  the  poem. 

The  progress  of  the  poem  from  1833  to  1850 
may  be  said  to  record  the  progress  of  the  poet's 
mind  during  these  seventeen  memorable  years. 
The  very  continuousness  of  its  preparation  made 
it  a  part  of  his  own  being  and  literary  life.  It  was 
in  his  heart  and  thought  as  a  growing  entity  until 


316  Special  Discussions 

the  fullness  of  time  came  for  its  appearance. 
Hence,  the  attempt  made  by  some  critics  to  insti- 
tute a  comparison  between  "  In  Memoriam  "  and 
Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  on  the  basis  of  their  com- 
mon autobiographical  element,  not  only  because 
each  is  written  in  the  memory  of  a  loved  and  lost 
friend,  but  because  of  the  intense  beauty  and  ten- 
derness of  the  poems. 

However  this  may  be,  "  In  Memoriam  "  is  a  rev- 
elation of  the  author's  personality  as  well  as  a 
memorial  of  his   friend. 

Not  a  few  of  the  stanzas  are  so  lifelike  that  we 
can  almost  hear  the  poet  say.  This  is  my  experi- 
ence and  my  trust ;  this,  my  joy  and  my  hope ;  and 
this,  my   faith  and  doubt. 

Thus  as  he  writes: — 

"  I  sometimes  hold  it  half  a  sin 
To  put  in  words  the  grief  I  feel; 
For  words,  like  nature,  half  reveal 
And  half  conceal  the  soul  within/' 

we  see  in  characteristic  connection  the  sorrow  over 
the  death  of  young  Hallam;  the  enunciation  of  a 
general  principle  as  to  the  relation  of  feeling  to 
utterance,  and,  also,  his  own  state  of  mind  as  he 
pens  the  quatrain.  This  frequent  repetition  of  the 
I,   so  notable  in   the  poem,   is   far    from  egoistic 


Tennyson's  ''  In  Memoriam  "  317 

but  thoroughly  natural,  as  the  expression  of  the 
author's  own  state  of  mind. 

And  this  leads  us  to  note,  in  closing,  that  the 
special  feature  of  "  In  Memoriam,"  as  of  Tenny- 
son's best  poetry,  is  its  latent  meaning,  ever  al- 
luring the  literary  student  to  new  investigations, 
and  ever  promising  as  his  reward  new  discoveries 
of  truth  and  beauty.  Next  to  Shakespeare's  plays, 
this  poem  must  be  ranked,  in  its  suggestiveness  or 
undeveloped  thought.  No  one  can  read  it  or  en- 
joy it  without  a  kind  of  Hebraic  sobriety  of  mind, 
and  no  one  can  rise  from  its  reading  without  be- 
ing stronger  in  mental  vigor  and  possibility. 

It  is  not  at  all  strange  that  Tennyson  wrote  noth- 
ing better  afterwards,  in  that  here  he  may  be 
said  to  have  surpassed  himself  in  range  and  imagi- 
nation, and,  in  later  years,  but  reiterated  and  re- 
flected the  essential  excellencies  of  this  master- 
piece. 

No  poem  has  so  permeated  and  suffused  mod- 
ern English  verse.  Tennyson,  it  is  said  by  the 
critics,  has  founded  a  school  or  method  of  verse, 
and  this  is  true;  but  in  such  a  superb  production 
as  this  he  has  done  something  better  —  he  has  ex- 
pressed, in  artistic  oneness,  the  literary  and  the 
mental;  has  shown  that  lyric  verse  may  retain  all 


818  Special  Discussions 

its  charm  and  yet  be  expressed  with  epic  dignity 
and  range,  and  that  the  profoundest  problems  of 
human  life  may  be  presented  in  poetic  form.  In 
the  conscientious  attempt  worthily  to  commemo- 
rate the  character  of  a  departed  friend,  he  has 
made  the  memory  of  his  own  name  as  lasting  as 
earth  and  time  and  the  life  of  man. 


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